Computer Calls
by tarheelveteran
Summary: Would you trust this man with your sister?  How about your sister's computer? A series of one-shots about technophobe Rick Stetler.
1. The Cupholder

**Disclaimer: I do now own any of CSI Miami or its intellectual properties. I own only my OC.**

**A/N: For those of you who have read Computer Calls, I've brought it back by poplar demand. For those of you who have never read this collection of one-shots, these are actual calls that have been taken by computer experts. **

* * *

**The Cupholder**

The phone chirped its special ring in the Miami-Dade Computer Lab, indicating an internal call. Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne turned toward the console. Just as she went to press the ANSWER button, she glanced at the caller ID

R STETLER—IAB

She groaned as she hit the button. Not again. "Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne" she said in as polite a voice as she could muster for Rick.

There was silence on the other end for a second.

Emmie raised her eyebrows. "You there, Sir?"

Rick's voice sounded tortured. "Emmie, I need you to come up here and fix my computer. Now, please. And bring some paper towels when you come up."

She paused. "Sir, what exactly is the problem? With all due respect, we're on a major case for Calleigh, and if you describe it to me, maybe I can walk you through fixing it from here." Emmie didn't know why she bothered to tell him this. Everybody knew Rick Stetler had a track record of wrecking computer equipment in the most bizarre ways imaginable. Each time, she or Tyler usually ended up going up there to untangle the carnage.

"There are two of you in there. Tyler's handling Calleigh's case, remember?"

"Okay, Sir. One of us will be right up there." She let out a disgusted sigh as she clicked off the answer button.

"Let me guess" Tyler said from his side of the lab. "Stetler crashed his computer again, and he wants you to drop everything and come fix it?"

"You expected otherwise? And I can't even send you this time because Calleigh requested you for this case." Emmie sighed loudly and picked up her black tool case. "Where's justice?"

The computer tech first went to the break room and snatched up a handful of paper towels before trudging up the stairs.

_I'm afraid to ask why he wants paper towels. That's gotta be a new one._

When Emmie got to look in Rick's office, she opened her hand, letting the wad of paper towels fell to the floor. "Oh my—"

The desk area looked more like an explosion in a Starbucks. Coffee had exploded against the white wall, the desk, and the blue carpet. Some had even made it to the ceiling and had now dripped back down. Rick was standing off to the side, obviously infuriated, wiping his face and blotting coffee off his suit and white shirt. His wet hair now stuck to his face. He then turned around to wring that obnoxious paisley tie into the garbage can, all the while cursing under his breath.

Emmie hated dealing with Rick under the best of circumstances, but when she saw the coffee's point of origin, she put down her toolcase and breathed hard to keep from laughing.

On the side of the computer console she spotted the remains of a large Styrofoam cup stuck in the CD drive. The drive itself was halfway retracted, squashing the mangled Styrofoam mess. It now looked like a giant crushed eggshell.

Rick seemed to grow more irate by the minute. He pointed at the disaster on his desk.

"Emmie, you gave me a computer with a broken cup holder! You see what it did to my office!" He held out his coffee-splattered clothes. "You know what it's gonna cost to dry clean all this?"

Reality set in now. "Excuse me Sir."

Unable to control the laughter any longer, she stepped out of the office, well away from Rick's hearing, wiping tears from her eyes. It was her first "cup holder call" in twelve years of computer work. Sooner or later, every tech would face the dreaded "cup holder call", and now she could say she was no exception. Just that hers was a little more colorful.

After several minutes of composing herself, Emmie stepped back into the room where Rick was now attempting to remove coffee-splattered documents from his desk. She stood patiently behind him as he cursed some more, picking up sopped reports and packets with his thumb and forefinger, letting them drop into his wastebasket with a _splat._

Rick turned around. "Did you bring paper towels, like I told you to?" he snarled.

Emmie reached into her tool case and handed some to him. He snatched them away and tried to blot the brown river off his desk. She could no longer control herself. She closed her eyes and began to laugh again.

"Enjoying this?" Rick snapped again, glaring at her. He pointed to his spattered clothes. "See what happened? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, and my investigation packet's been destroyed!"

Emmie walked over to the baptized computer console. She pointed to the CD drive on one side. "Sir, is this the 'cup holder' you were using?"

Rick wasn't doing a good job of maintaining his temper. "Yeah. Then I tried to adjust it so I could reach my coffee, and look what happened!"

Her military training demanded that she at least attempt to show Rick some respect. She breathed deeply to avoid any more fits of laughter.

"Did you push this in?"

"Yeah. Like I told you, it doesn't work!"

Emmie reached up and peeled the lid off the dripping wall. Most likely this was what caused the cup to explode.

"Sir, I don't know how else to tell you this. This isn't a cup holder. It's a CD drive. It's not made to hold the weight of a coffee cup, and uh, well, you just trashed another computer."

"_What?"_

This act of stupidity was just too much for her to ignore. "The CD drive did what it's supposed to. So now I'm gonna have to take this whole console downstairs and attempt to reimage everything that was on there and replace everything _you_ damaged. Again. I hope you remembered to back up your work this time."

"Wait a minute. Lieutenant Caine said…_Oh crap_!" Rick stormed out of the office, still mopping at the brown spots on his suit with paper towels. With him out of the way, Emmie was free to laugh as she started the long, drawn-out process of unplugging the damaged goods and getting them ready to be swapped out. It would be an all-day job. The cleaning crew would get to take care of the mess.

In the brown river on Rick's desk, Emmie spotted a wet envelope. She peeked at the cover.

PRELIMINARY INVESTIGATION OF LIEUTENANT HORATIO CAINE

Not anymore, she thought. Eighty percent of that packet would never be recovered. "Sergeant, if you didn't back this up, you're screwed."

As Emmie had toweled off the damaged console and was now carting it to the elevator, she saw Horatio looking out the window, his back to her. Quietly she tapped on his door.

Horatio turned around. "Miss Stockburne! Please come in. I see you have your hands full today."

"Yes Sir." She pointed to the coffee-stained mess that now dripped on the cart. "A certain IAB sergeant thought his CD drive was a cupholder." Then it occurred to her. "Sir, did you-"

Horatio just gave Emmie that smile of his.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Actually, all I said to Rick was whatever that thing was in the side _might as well have been a cup holder_, since I don't use it for anything else."

Emmie laughed again. "I'll be sure to leave that part out in my write-up. Well, I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. Guess I better do some damage control of my own." And with that she left.


	2. Improper Ventilation

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews. I'm humbled that these stories are timeless. Thanks again, and enjoy!**

* * *

**Improper Ventilation**

Horatio was engrossed in another case file when he heard a tap on the door. He looked up, startled slightly. Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne stood in the doorway, an annoyed look on her face.

"Miss Stockburne? Come on in. Is there a problem?" Horatio said, laying the file down and giving her full attention.

Emmie stepped in, black laptop bag slung over her shoulder. "Sir, I'm not trying to cause trouble, and you know I don't usually like to bother you with stuff like this, but—"

"What did he wreck this time?"

"This has gotten too predictable for you, hasn't it? Actually, at this rate, Internal Affairs is gonna wreck my department's budget!"

Horatio smiled at her knowingly. "It's like you always say about Sergeant Stetler. You can't believe they let him handle firearms."

Emmie laid the laptop, bag and all, on Horatio's desk. "Sir, maybe you should tag this one as evidence. Criminal stupidity." He looked at it, not sure what to say.

She unzipped the bag and handed Rick's latest improvement to Horatio.

A new silver laptop had four holes drilled from the keyboard clean through the bottom. The Lieutenant looked at it nonplussed. "Okay, Miss Stockburne. What happened to this?"

"Tyler got the call from Rick this morning. He complained that he had made a few, uh, adjustments to this new laptop that we issued him just a few days ago."

Horatio leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "I'm listening."

"It gets better, Sir. When Tyler asked about the holes drilled in the bottom, Rick said when he put the, uh, laptop on his lap for long periods of time it made his legs sweat, so he apparently drilled those holes for ventilation. Now he's all bent out of shape because it won't work, and he can't get the info off the hard drive. Looking at where he drilled the holes, I'm not sure I'll be able to either. I might be able to rebuild this thing. Otherwise you're staring at a two-thousand-dollar paperweight."

Horatio nodded. "Leave this on my desk, Emmie. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Sir. I'm just trying to save us money for important stuff. You know, like solving cases and things?"

"I understand."

* * *

The next morning Emmie and Tyler were looking over case files that Trace had sent over when the phone chirped. Tyler swung around and answered it. Emmie watched him.

Tyler looked at Emmie, not sure what to say or do. After more than a year in the Miami-Dade computer lab, she could read him like a book. "What's going on, Tyler?"

He handed the phone to her. "See if you can handle this one."

With wary eyes she accepted the phone from him. "Emmie Stockburne." She listened for a minute. "Okay Sir, calm down. I can barely understand you. You don't have to scream at me!" Emmie rolled her eyes and held the handset well away from her ear. "Let me get up there, Sir. It'll be a minute or two." She handed the phone back to Tyler, who turned around and hung it up.

She made her way to the elevator and up to Rick's office. "Sir, what's going on?"

Rick Stetler sat in the extra chair in his office, obviously still fuming from his discovery. His desk chair lay on its side as thought it had been thrown in a fit of anger. He pointed at it. "Any idea who did this?"

"I know I'm gonna regret this, Sir, but what happened?" she asked warily.

Rick stomped over and flipped the desk chair onto its back. "_That's _what happened!"

The silver laptop she'd handed to Horatio yesterday had been drilled to the seat of his office chair through the four holes he had made. After two seconds, Emmie couldn't help it. She tried not to laugh.

Rick was getting angrier by the minute. "And when you're done yucking it up, kindly fix my chair!"

"With all due respect Sir, I can't fix this. Your chair is a facilities call. Which means you get to pick up the phone _again_ and call somebody to come up and fix your chair. Oh, and please make sure they save that laptop, because I'm gonna have to rebuild it. That's if your 'ventilation' system' didn't do much damage."

"This is _not_ funny" Rick growled after her.

"Actually, Sir, it is. Let me know when Facilities pries that thing loose, okay?"

As Emmie made her way back to the elevator doors, Horatio walked behind her. Both waited until the doors were safely closed.

"Sir? Rick Stetler's chair. You?" she wanted to know.

Horatio leaned toward her. "You're not the only one who's handy with electronics, Miss Stockburne" he said quietly.

A fresh wave of laughter came over her as the elevator doors parted and Horatio held his arm out for her to walk in.

"Thanks for the laugh, Sir."

As he stepped out, Horatio donned his sunglasses. "Just dispensing a little justice."


	3. Stuck in You

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I'd like to thank all of you for your reviews. **

* * *

**Stuck in You**

Senior Computer Tech Emmie Stockburne tapped away at her keyboard, quickly compiling her findings for Horatio's latest case, when she was aware of IAB agent Rick Stetler standing over her, hands on hips, huffing impatiently. She stopped typing and turned in her chair, peering up at him matter-of-factly.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

"Emmie, where'd my printer go? I went to my office to print up some reports to take to the Mayor's office, and my printer was gone."

She never took her eyes off the monitor. "I know, Sir. I took it out yesterday."

"Where'd it go?" he demanded.

"Same place half my budget went."

"Meaning?"

She spun in her chair to face him. "Gone! So since you're not a regular here, you get to share that one in the hallway with Frank Tripp and Jake Berkeley. We no longer have the money to maintain your printer."

Rick glared at her. "You're kidding me! I print a lot of confidential stuff off my computer!" he argued, pointing at the door.

Emmie stood up. "I'm aware of that, Sir. I also know that you have a printer at your other office, so you might want to print stuff there!"

"And what if I forget something?"

"One of us can print it for you! Now if there's nothing else, Lieutenant Caine has me on a bank fraud case." With that she sat down and continued to click the keyboard as Rick stormed out.

Several minutes passed. Emmie glanced between the monitor and the case file in front of her.

"Hey, uh, Emmie?" a voice asked hesitantly from the door.

Emmie turned to see Jake Berkeley and Natalia watching her.

"Hey, Jake. Natalia." She raised her eyebrows. "Something wrong?"

Jake glanced at Natalia. "You're gonna want to take a look at something. Know that printer you put in down the hall?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

Natalia glanced at Jake. "You want to tell her?"

Jake smiled now. "Looks like Stetler was trying to clear something out of the printer. Or maybe he was trying to put something in there. Not sure."

"I confirmed that the residual spatter wasn't blood" Natalia said.

Emmie wrinkled her face as she stood up. "Oh, God. What did he jam in there? And what spatter? What are you talking about?" She groaned and stood up. "Did he get his tie caught again? I told him to quit leaning over that thing! He's gonna strangle himself one day!"

Jake snorted with laughter now. "I don't think it was his tie this time."

She watched them cautiously. "Uh, okay. What did he jam in there this time?"

"We always wondered if he had one."

Natalia glared at him. "Jake!"

He put his hands up. "Hey! Sorry!"

Emmie's green eyes darted between them. "You guys are scaring me. Show me what's going on." When she got to the printer area in the blue hallway, she just stopped and stared.

The printer looked like a murder scene in itself. The top looked like somebody had bashed it and then poured blood on it. Some now leaked out of the bottom and was dripping, making a red puddle on the blue floor. A small crowd had gathered around and looked on. Not quite sure, Emmie crept up.

"Stetler left a note" Natalia said, pointing to the mess. Sure enough, somebody had taped a note to the front. It too had red spattering on it.

_My penis jammed in the printer. Please get it out. I want it back. R Stetler._

This couldn't have been one of Delko's pranks, she thought, as she stared silently at the red, mangled printer. Some labcoat-clad techs were snickering now. "He said he wants it back, Emmie" Eric taunted.

Tyler had stepped out to see what was going on. "What happened?" he wanted to know, staring at the mess with the same amazement.

Regaining her sense of reality, she motioned to him. "Hey Tyler? Remember how you wanted some tech support experience?" She pointed to the carnage in front of her. "Well, here's your chance!" With a tight smile she patted the shocked AV tech's shoulder. "You know where I'll be."

"Thanks a lot!" he retorted, shaking his head in amazement.

"Rank has its privileges" she said with a smile, leaving him with the bloodied mess and the amused crowd of officers and lab techs.

Half an hour later, Tyler stepped into the lab where Emmie was still clicking keys. He sighed and tiredly wiped his hands. She turned to him. "Thanks for handling that, Tyler. What happened?"

"I had to put in another printer. Old one's shot. Facilities cleaned the table and the floor." He smirked now. "Tell Stetler that I stuck his thing in a jar of Citrix. I'm going to lunch." With that he quickly disappeared out the door.

She wrinkled her eyebrows and put up a hand after him, but he was already gone. But then she thought about it. "No way. It couldn't be."

The scrawled note. That red-splattered printer. She couldn't concentrate.

Rick Stetler stuck his head in the lab. "Where is it, Emmie?"

Her eyes wide, Emmie turned around. "Sir?"

The IAB agent looked at her with his usual impatient scowl. "Did you get my pen out of the printer, like I asked you to?"

"Your _pen_?"

He never changed his expression. "Yeah. Remember I told you that my pen was stuck in there? That was my favorite pen. Some papers got jammed in there, so I used my pen to dig them out of there, and then my pen got jammed in there too. I had to get to a meeting, so I stuck that note on the printer."

The computer tech put her finger up. "Hold on, Sir."

Emmie stepped into the back room. Sure enough, a silver pen lay sideways in a jar of Citrix. The red, damaged printer lay in pieces on the shelf. A closer look revealed that the jammed pen had caused the red toner cartridge to explode. Tyler had thrown the crumpled-up note in the trash.

Rick stood stood behind her and held his hand out. "What's my pen doing in that jar? Can I have it back, please?"

With two fingers, she fished the silver pen out of the jar, rinsed it out under the faucet, and handed it to its rightful owner. He glared at her.

"You could at least dry it off, couldn't you?" he protested.

She resisted the urge to grab his pink checkered tie and use it as a towel. Instead she blotted the prized pen with some paper towels and handed it to him.

He snatched it from her and looked it over. "It's all scratched!" he protested.

Emmie leveled her eyes at him. "Could've been a lot worse! Next time, call me or Tyler if you have a paper jam, please? That would save me a lot of headaches!"

Tyler was watching the soundboard when Emmie stepped into the computer lab. She sighed and plopped herself into her chair.

"Hey! Stetler get his thing back?"

She smirked at the AV tech. "You mean his _pen_? Yeah. Hey Tyler, next time, tell me it was a pen he jammed in there, okay? You scared the blank out of me."

Tyler grinned at her. "Why, what did you think he got stuck in there?"

"I resisted the urge to shove it up his nose."

He laughed. "Hey, Horatio was looking for you about that bank fraud case. Where've you been?"

"I went ahead and put the IAB printer back in Rick's office."

He looked at her with surprise. "Why? I thought you were trying to save money."

Emmie looked toward the fresh new hallway printer. "Trust me, Tyler. My sanity is worth any cost."


	4. Sizeable Issues

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: "Lap" is short for "laptop"**

* * *

**Sizeable Issues**

"Here you go, Sir. I set up your desktop so you just have to click here on the Live Meeting icon. Then you dial in the number on your speaker phone and follow these instructions." She pointed with her pen. "And the mute button on your phone is right here."

Horatio looked at the phone and then at her. "Thank you, Miss Stockburne. By the way, how are you holding up in getting Rick Stetler all ready for his first big teleconference?"

"I'd like to thank you for all the overtime. Between Tallahassee sending us the wrong documents, readjusting the wireless router, and the usual stuff Rick seems to blow up, Tyler and I have our hands full. I don't mind, but personally, I wish his first big teleconference was on a different subject."

"Well, I know how you feel, but it is IAB's job to brief the entire department on the state's new sexual harassment policy. By the way, why are you making sure I knew where the mute button is on my phone?"

"Well Sir, he asked me to stay in his office and lend him tech support during the teleconference. Call it experience, but I know he's gonna say or do something."

"I know, Emmie. But you know Rick. He thinks because he took a couple of tech support classes, he can do your job now."

"Sir, because he took a couple of tech support classes, I'm now doing more of my job."

* * *

Emmie arrived in the IAB office five minutes before the start of Rick's teleconference with her portfolio and her tool case. Rick was sitting in his chair, obviously annoyed and stressed while poring over his notes. He slapped his notes on the desk and looked up at her, his eyes blazing.

"You're late, Emmie! What took you so long?"

She shrugged. "Sorry Sir, Tallahassee just sent an update to your presentation. Could you let me in there so I can add it to your desktop?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're looking at an outdated policy, Sir. Updates came in about two minutes ago, and I have to download them." She stretched across his cluttered desk for his laptop and clicked the keyboard. "Hang on. Downloading now."

He bolted up and glared at her. "We start in one minute! How long is this gonna take?"

Emmie looked up at the miffed IAB agent. "It's a big file, Sir, and wireless is slow. Going as fast as I can. Try to stall them or something."

Rick huffed and slapped his notes on his desk. "This is my one chance to make a good impression, and what happens?"

Her ears perked up when she heard a voice over the conference speaker. Quickly she spun around and clicked the mute button in order to silence Rick's stressful fit. Unaware, Rick continued his shouting tirade. She tried to get his attention.

"Uh, Sir?" Emmie pointed politely to the muted conference speaker. Rick paid no attention as he paced angrily in his office, hands on hips. "Just do your job! Haven't you opened those files yet?"

…_Sergeant Rick Stetler of IAB will brief the Miami-Dade Police Department on the latest round of changes to the Florida Sexual Harassment Code of Conduct…."_ a voice said officially.

"Sir?"

"Just do your job and I'll do mine!" Rick snapped as he turned his back and glanced at her as she watched the slow graphics on his laptop.

"Okay, Sir. Got 'em. Hang on!"

Rick seemed unaware of his cue as he huffed and stared at her while she frantically clicked the keyboard.

"_Turning it over to you, Sergeant Stetler."_

Emmie shrugged and released the mute button. Ready or not, the Miami-Dade Police Department was listening for him, she thought. Finally at his breaking point, Rick stood inches behind her and held his hand up in the air.

"**I can't wait anymore, Emmie! Open 'em up already! I need whatever you're hiding!" **

Emmie quickly covered her face and slapped the conference speaker's mute button. It was too late, though.

"What the hell is so funny?" Rick's eyes then widened when he noticed the squawking conference speaker. He froze and turned crimson-faced.

* * *

Horatio motioned to his chair. "Sit down, Miss Stockburne" he said patiently.

"Thanks Sir."

"Damage report?"

"Frank Tripp's monitor had coffee damage. Detective Berkeley's laptop was broken beyond repair when he dropped his on the floor. Oh, and one very traumatized IAB agent."

Horatio sighed. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sergeant Stetler came in this morning ranting and raving that you embarrassed him in front of the entire Miami-Dade Police Department when you laughed just before hitting the mute button on the speaker. He insisted that something be done about it."

"What? Sir, I swear I—" she started to protest.

The Lieutenant put up his hand. "Look, Miss Stockburne, you and I both know that what happened was nobody's fault. Strictly off the record, even the Commissioner thought it was funny. Of course Rick could have been paying closer attention, but you know how he is. Nothing is ever his fault. You're a department supervisor yourself, and you know politics."

"So what now, Sir?"

"We both agreed that if you email the department a formal apology, he'll drop the subject. Just take a deep breath and do it. You're a professional, and I'll let you use your better judgment. Once you've done that, we'll consider the matter over and done with. Fair?"

Emmie sighed deeply. "Yes Sir."

Horatio smiled. "And thank you for showing everybody the mute button. It could have been a lot worse."

* * *

A sullen Emmie sat in the computer lab and brought up her email. Rick wanted an apology. She would oblige.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_Please accept my sincerest apologies for my unprofessional outburst during the course of Sergeant Stetler's conference concerning Florida's laws of sexual harassment. At the time this occurred, Sergeant Stetler had me on his lap and was trying to give me something bigger than my system was designed to handle. I assure you that this will not happen again. _

_Sincerely,_

_Emmalyn P Stockburne, Senior Cybertechnician, Miami-Dade Crime Lab_


	5. Ghosts in the Machine

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

**Ghosts in the Machine**

Private Investigator Yelina Salas swung her long, curly hair back gracefully over her shoulder as she stepped wearily into the Miami-Dade Comuter Lab. "Morning, Emmie" she said with a tired sigh. "Since things are slow this week, Horatio said I could use your services."

Cybertech Emmie Stockburne spun around slowly in her chair. "Hey, Yelina. My pleasure. Got more dirt, huh?"

"Oh, yes. This was a difficult case." She glanced at Emmie's tired green eyes. "I see you had a busy day too."

Emmie rolled her eyes. "Just curious. How did you ever put up with that guy?" she said, pointing at the ceiling.

Yelina glanced upward. "Who? Stetler?"

The computer tech leaned her face on her hand and sighed. "I mean, everybody else is on vacation this week, so I know he's got nothing going on. This morning it was 'Emmie, I crashed the Internet.' Then it's 'Emmie, why can't I email a package from my monitor?' Then it's 'Emmie' this and 'Emmie' that." She touched her forehead to her desk and groaned. "That's been my job all day. I swear he's gonna drive me to drink!"

The P.I. smirked. "And I bet he still leers" Yelina said with a smirk. "Do you know if he's seeing someone else now?"

"Not that I'm aware of." She pursed her lips in thought. "You know what? Since it's been so slow this week, I bet you he has no good reason to be here. Probably just up there goofing around right now. Don't tell the boss you saw me do this." Emmie clicked the keyboard to tap into Rick's controls. "What say we just check up on Prince Charming and see whether he's following the County's policy about using his computer?"

Rick's computer screen came to life on the monitor. Emmie immediately recoiled and wrinkled her nose when she found herself face to face with a steamy love letter on a Word document. "Now that's nasty. Looks like Mr. Stud Muffin's at it again."

Yelina glanced over her shoulder. Seconds later she made the same wry face. "Who do you think he's writing that to?"

"No telling."

"Think we should tell Horatio?"

Emmie glanced back at the steamy letter that graced her monitor. "Nah. Horatio doesn't like me doing this." She turned around in her chair now. "What do you say we just have a little fun with him?"

Yelina smiled. "What are you gonna do?"

Emmie placed the cursor at the end of the paragraph and began to erase words from Rick's amorous passage. Yelina smiled.

Seconds later the same words reappeared. Emmie immediately backspaced them away. Nothing happened for several minutes. The same steamy words reappeared more slowly and cautiously this time.

Emmie then held down her mouse button, highlighted the entire text, and then hit the DELETE key. She then burst out laughing.

"I know that laugh, Emmie" Yelina said with a smile.

The computer tech clicked her keyboard again.

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! PLEASE HELP US!

Nothing happened. Both ladies were transfixed on the screen now.

WHO'S THERE?

WE GOT STUCK IN THE COMPUTER AND CAN'T GET OUT! PLEASE HELP US!

There was silence.

WHO ARE YOU?

YELINA AND EMMIE. WE WERE FIXING THE COMPUTER AND GOT SUCKED IN. PLEASE HELP US GET OUT. PLEASE!

HOW DO I DO THAT?

Emmie giggled. "You used to date this guy, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately."

She clicked the keyboard again. "Let's see if he takes the bait."

YOU HAVE TO LICK YOUR COMPUTER SCREEN.

Nothing happened.

"You think he did it?" Yelina asked.

"Let's find out" she said with a smile in her voice. "God, what I wouldn't give for a two-way feed right now. Well, maybe not."

I DID IT TWICE. LOOKS LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. ARE YOU STILL IN THERE?

Emmie grabbed a Kleenex, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. Yelina turned around and covered her mouth. "What do you say, Yelina? Should we up the ante a little?"

"I'd like that."

YOU DID IT TOO MANY TIMES. THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY YOU CAN FIX IT NOW. YOU HAVE TO RUN UP AND DOWN THE HALLWAY AND ACT LIKE A CHICKEN.

ARE YOU SURE?

WE PROMISE YOU, RICK. AFTER ALL, I KNOW YOU JUST LIE IN BED AT NIGHT AND DREAM ABOUT US. DON'T YOU?

Nothing happened.

Emmie wiped her eyes as both ladies continued to watch the screen. "The suspense is killing me."

"Me too" Yelina admitted.

The screen stayed silent. Emmie shook her head. "You think he fell for it?"

"Ladies."

Yelina and Emmie turned their heads toward a familiar voice. "Hey Sir" Emmie said.

Horatio scowled as he fingered his sunglasses. "Miss Stockburne, I need you to print me another copy of the request for vacation" he nearly growled.

Emmie raised her eyebrows. "You okay, Sir? You look pretty upset about something."

The Lieutenant's voice sank to a whisper. "Sergeant Stetler has been advised to take a vacation. I think the stress is getting to him."

"What happened, Horatio?" Yelina wanted to know, suppressing a smile.

"The first time I walked past his office, he was licking his computer screen. I ignored it, thinking it was just stress."

Yelina covered her face and turned away, while Emmie grabbed another Kleenex and covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

"But when I came back, he was running up and down the hall, flapping his arms and making sounds like a chicken. Frank nearly shot him. There were witnesses, and the whole incident is on the hallway surveillance tape, so he couldn't argue his way out of this one. I told him to either take two weeks' vacation or go for a psych evaluation. He chose the vacation."

Both ladies now wiped their eyes with laughter.

"Something you ladies aren't telling me?" he wanted to know, his eyes darting between them suspiciously. Emmie very quickly reached behind her and poked the monitor button. The incriminating screen went dark immediately. She shrugged at her boss with a smile.

Yelina turned to go. "Well Emmie, just call me when you're done analyzing that video." She then gave Horatio that special smile. "I'll call you tonight, Horatio." With that she walked out.

Emmie breathed deeply, still recovering from her laughter. "Printing now, Sir." She quickly handed him the printed sheets.

Horatio glared as IAB agent Rick Stetler stepped ruefully off the elevator and waited outside of the doors of the computer lab. Horatio locked eyes with him. "Wait for me outside the door, Rick!"

Rick's eyes widened when he saw Emmie. She waved and smiled to him.

"It worked, Sir! Thanks a lot!"


	6. Little Miss Potty Mouth

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Again, I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed these entries.  
Regarding the black eyes in Crime Wave and Whacked: Those "black eyes" would have taken two to three days to show. Someone who just got hit in the eye would have a red mark. **

* * *

**Little Miss Potty Mouth**

Detective Jake Berkeley smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Well if it isn't the prettiest computer geek in Miami. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Cybertech Emmie Stockburne put up one hand and narrowed her eyes at the wild-haired detective. "Okay, Jake. Strictly off the record, your email was hilarious. On the record? I can get in trouble if Horatio finds out. I know I've asked you not to send that stuff."

Jake shrugged with a smile. "Hey. Couldn't help it. One of my buddies in Narco sent it to me. So I sent it to Frank. I don't think Frank's gonna rat you out."

"No, but those things show up on my monthly audits. When you get them, just delete them or put them on a disk! Can't your Narco buddy send that stuff to your home computer?"

Jake raised his hands in surrender. "Okay. Sorry. No more."

"Thank you" she said deliberately before hurrying down to the computer lab.

* * *

Emmie plopped down the morning case files and a small white cardboard box. "Morning, Tyler."

Tyler nodded from his work station. "Hey. What's in the box? Early Valentine's Day present?"

"You could say that. I bought some new multimedia software, and I was just feeling mushy-gushy over the weekend. So I made ten of these CD's for Valentine's Day. They've got pictures, poems and music. No two are alike. I'm gonna just hand them out as gifts. Maybe if everybody likes them, I might start a little business." She clicked the keyboard. "First thing in the morning, and I have to sweep emails."

"Why? What happened?"

"Jake Berkeley's been sending out dirty emails again. I swear he's gonna get me in trouble."

Tyler grinned. "What is it?"

"This one's called 'Little Miss Potty Mouth.' I was scared to death it might be a virus. Well, since you're curious, come on over." Tyler watched over her shoulder as she clicked on the email attachment.

Tyler laughed as he watched the cartoon. "Looks like something Berkeley would send out."

"I know I've told him not to do that. If Rick Stetler finds out, I'm toast." She stared at the monitor. "The cleanest thing I heard in that one was something about 'sitting on your face.' Oh well." She inserted a blank CD into the CD drive and clicked the keyboard. "Thanks a lot, Jake. Let me get this off the drive before the boss finds out."

Out of the corner of her eye, Emmie noticed Tyler staring down the hallway. "What's out there?"

He pointed behind him with his thumb. "Check it out. Stetler's trying to get back together again with Yelina Salas. He's talking to her right now."

She glanced down the hallway. Sure enough, IAB agent Rick Stetler was flirting with Yelina Salas, who smiled and let her curls cover her face like a curtain. "Oh yeah. I heard about them. Didn't he give her a black eye a few years back?"

"That's the rumor. Looks like she returned the favor. Stetler had a nice shiner over his right eye for about a week."

"God, what I wouldn't give to see that. Well heck, if he gets back with her, maybe he'll leave me alone."

"Don't know" Tyler said. "I don't think Yelina has a rich daddy."

Emmie turned her attention back to the console clicked keys again. "I'm just gonna put out an email to let everybody know I have these CD's as free gifts. And I'll attach a sample. Who knows? Maybe the right person will see these." She hit the SEND button. "And off it goes."

Seconds later the CD with Jake's email popped out of the drive. She picked it up and placed it in an unlabeled jewel case. At the same moment, the phone chirped to let her know she had an internal call. "Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne. How nice. Okay, Calleigh. Give me a minute." She hung up and immediately grabbed her toolcase.

"What's going on?" Tyler wanted to know.

Emmie bolted into action as she holstered her cell phone. "System crashed in Trace. From what it sounds like, everything's down. You know where I'll be. I just love Mondays."

Tyler couldn't help himself. He picked up the blank CD, popped it into the drive, and watched the animated little girl in a patchwork dress and Mary Janes recite X-rated poems. He snickered as he pulled out the CD and absentmindedly placed the jewel case on top of Emmie's white box. "You're sick, Berkeley" he muttered. With that he started in on Frank's surveillance tape.

IAB agent Rick Stetler ambled into the lab, his brown eyes suspiciously scanning. "Tyler."

The AV tech looked up from his terminal. "Morning, Rick. Need something?"

"Emmie sent an email that said she had some free CD's for Valentine's Day. I just thought I'd come by and get one. Any left?"

Tyler was engrossed in Frank's surveillance tape, but he motioned toward Emmie's desk. "Yeah, they're in that white box on her desk. I don't think she'll mind if you just help yourself."

Rick walked over to the desk and noticed the unlabeled CD case on top of the box. "I'll just take this one" he said, picking it up and pocketing it. He smiled as he walked out of the lab. "I can't wait to see the look on Yelina's face."

Emmie dragged herself and her tool case into the computer lab several hours later. "Well, that disaster's fixed. I had to pretty much reload everything." She plopped down in the chair and clicked open her email program. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

His eyes still glued to the monitor, Tyler shrugged. "Stetler came by and took one of your CD's. He said 'Thanks.'"

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows. "The box is still sealed." Adrenaline shot through her system now as she frantically searched through papers and folders. Quickly she scanned the floor and around the computers. "Uh, Tyler?"

He finally glanced up. "Huh?"

"Nobody took any of my Valentine CD's from the box." She leaned her face on her hand. "Oh, God. Did you happen to see which CD he took?"

"Berkeley's email? You don't think…."

She groaned and leaned her face on her hand. "I'm screwed."

Tyler grinned. "Not as screwed as Stetler is."

Rick Stetler then stormed into the lab, his hand over his eye. "Emmie? A word with you?" he snarled.

Emmie cringed slightly. "Uh, morning Sir. What happened to your face?"

When Rick moved his hand, she could see that his eye was swollen and red. "I sent one of your Valentine's Day CD's to somebody."

Tyler immediately hid his head under the desk, pretending to look for something as he hid his laughter.

The computer tech raised her eyebrows. "It wasn't the blank CD on top of this box, was it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"That was an email I cleaned off the server. It's called 'Little Miss Potty Mouth.'"

Rick still held his swollen eye, other hand on hip, showing that badge. "Who sent it?" he demanded.

She folded her arms adamantly. "Don't know, Sir. I got it off the server, just in case it was a virus. You could've infected the system!" She peered under his hand. "What happened to you?"

"I hit my face on the elevator door!"

Emmie turned and handed him a decorated jewel case. "Here, Sir. I feel kind of bad. Still want one?"

Rick just glared at Emmie's offering and huffed. "Forget it! She's not talking to me now!"

"Well, can I at least have my CD back? Lieutenant Caine wants a report at the end of the month."

One hand still on his throbbing face, he thrust it at her. "As soon as you find out who sent that, I want a full report." He turned to leave.

"Hey, uh, Sir?"

Rick stared daggers at her with his one open eye.

"Come on back if you want one. Yelina might change her mind."

Still cradling his eye, he stormed out without another word.

Emmie sighed and shook her head. "Well, there went that idea."

Tyler still smiled from his side of the room. "A dozen red roses from a secret admirer on your birthday?"

"I tell you, Tyler. Things are just getting too predictable around here."


	7. That Time of the Month

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

**That Time of the Month**

Miami-Dade Computer Tech Emmie Stockburne greeted Horatio as she stepped into the computer lab Monday morning. "Hey Sir!"

He turned around and smiled at her. "Well. Miss Stockburne. Welcome back. How was the FBI Cyber Crimes Seminar?"

"Pretty good, Sir. This morning I need to make sure all my monthly security updates went off without a hitch." As Emmie waited for the main computer to come to life, she noticed a greeting card peeking out of Horatio's belongings that read HAPPY ANNIVERSARY. She motioned to it. "Whose anniversary?"

"My anniversary since being promoted to Lieutenant. Signed by all the CSI's."

She smiled. "That was sweet of them. But I guess someone else upstairs isn't gonna feel like celebrating."

Horatio peered upward toward the management offices. "Exactly why I'm spending more time down in the lab today. This time every year, Rick seems worse than usual."

Her phone chirped. The caller ID indicated that it was IAB Sergeant Rick Stetler. She huffed. "Thanks for the warning."

* * *

The computer tech carried her tool kit up to Rick's office. "Morning, Sir. What exactly is the problem?"

The IAB agent stood in front of his desk, arms folded, staring daggers at a dusty desk and a spaghetti-like pile of wires. "Emmie, take a look at this" he snarled, pointing to the mess. "Tell me what's missing here!"

"What do I win if I guess right, Sir?"

"You get one month where I don't investigate your department!"

Emmie narrowed her eyes at him. "Your monitor's missing. I noticed that right away!"

"I called Tyler last week because my computer kept insulting me, and I told him to bring another one! That hasn't been done yet. Now are you going to take care of it so I can get down to business?"

She raised her eyebrows. He finally managed to come up with a new one. "Insulting you?"

"That's right! It kept telling me I was fat!"

Emmie shrugged and pointed to his middle. "Well, you are starting to get love handles, Sir. And those paisley shirts aren't helping—"

"The County doesn't pay you to give fashion tips, Emmie! Now kindly bring me a monitor that works!" he barked, scowling at her and buttoning his jacket.

"Hold on, Sir. I've been gone all week." She picked up Rick's phone. "Hey, Tyler. It's Emmie. What exactly happened to Rick Stetler's monitor while I was in DC?"

"After I changed it out three times, Horatio ordered me to just lock it away. We were short-handed, and Horatio didn't want to hear him yell and scream all week" Tyler said matter-of-factly.

"Why am I not surprised? I'll take care of it. Thanks, Tyler." With that she hung up.

Rick stood from across the room, hands on hips, glaring expectantly. "Well?"

"Give me five minutes." She returned carrying another monitor from the computer lab and dutifully hooked it up, turned it on, and watched as it came to life. "Okay, Sir. Let's see what the problem is."

A gray screen appeared with a message that read:

**YOUR FILE TYPE IS FAT32**.

Rick pointed at the screen. "You see that? I shouldn't have to put up with that!"

Emmie leveled her eyes at him. "'F-A-T' stands for File Allocation Table. That has to do with the size of your hard drive. I programmed the entire system to clean itself out and put in a new firewall once a month, and I wasn't here to finish the process. It does this every month, but when your computer's off, you don't see it. Here. Here, watch this. I'll fix the problem." She locked eyes with the steamed IAB agent as she hit the Return key. The gray screen reverted to Rick's blue screen and icons. "Fixed."

"Fine. But next time you have to leave, maybe you should—" He suddenly leaned over and groaned, grabbing his forehead.

"You okay, Sir?"

"I'm fine! Just a headache" he huffed at her from under his hand.

Emmie turned around to her tool case, pulled out a plastic bottle, and wheeled backward toward him in the chair. "Hold out your hand."

Still cradling his head, Rick held out his flattened palm to her. When he saw MIDOL PMS on the label, he immediately balled up his fist and yanked it back. "I'm not taking any of that stuff you women use!"

She looked at him dryly. "It has Ibuprofen in it. I take it when my knee's acting up. I gave some to Lieutenant Caine last month for his back, and you didn't hear him talk funny, did you?"

"Could you leave him out of this? Here. Let me have some." Still nursing his throbbing forehead, he held his sweating palm out to her while she dispensed two brown pills.

Unable to resist the temptation, she sidled back up to the doubled-over IAB agent. "Oh, and Sir? Don't worry; if you suddenly start craving chocolate and pink pastels, just run downstairs and have them do a tox panel on you." With that she left.

Rick stared after her, not sure whether to believe her or not.

"So how did it go with Sergeant Stetler's monitor?" Horatio asked from the other side of the lab.

"Oh, I got it to stop insulting him. He had a headache, so I let him have some of that Midol PMS that I gave you for your back last month. Seems you gentlemen always get some kind of pain when I run the monthly security checks." She leaned her head on her hand and sighed. "I finally got out of there before he could cry on my tool case."

Horatio glanced up at Emmie's main monitor. "Emmie, can you get into Rick's computer from here?"

"Sure."

"Let me step in there."

Emmie clicked the keyboard to tap into Rick's controls before standing up and letting Horatio have her chair. "All yours, Sir. Anything I should know?"

"Stetler was complaining about his computer insulting him. You just gave me an idea with that Midol. Why don't you go to the break room and have some coffee?"

She smiled. "I trust you, Sir."

Emmie scanned Calleigh's latest collection of fingerprints when her phone chirped. She picked it up without looking. "Computer lab, Emmie Stock—." She held the receiver away from her ear so Rick could dispense his usual torrent of displeasure. "Hang on, Sir. I'll be right up."

_Sounds like the Midol wore off. _

She peered into Rick's office. His breath was quickening. "I thought you fixed the problem!" he nearly shouted.

Facing him was a monitor with a bright red screen with a scrolling marquee that screamed:

**WARNING: I HAVE PMS AND A GUN!**

Emmie bit her lip and clenched her fists. She quaked and tears began to roll down her reddened face as she barely managed to stifle her laughter.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey! What are _you_ crying about? That thing keeps insulting _me_!"

"Excuse me, Sir. I'll be back to fix that." She crept around the corner, well out of his sight, and sunk to the floor with laughter. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose until the fits of laughter subsided.

"Are you all right, Miss Stockburne?"

Emmie had tears in her eyes when she looked up at Horatio. "Your, uh, idea, Sir?" she asked between fits of laughter, pointing back in the direction of Rick's office.

"It is."

"I love it!"

"Emmie, good or bad, there's always one thing we can be certain of" her boss said as he stuck out a hand to help her up.

She took his arm and rose to her feet. "What's that, Sir?"

Horatio stared in the direction of his nemesis's office as he donned his sunglasses. "Rick will never go through the change."


	8. The Warm Fuzzies

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: This one actually happened in the office where I currently work. **

* * *

**The Warm Fuzzies**

Senior Computer Tech Emmie Stockburne cupped her hands and blew into them as she stepped into the computer lab and set down her toolcase. "Morning, Tyler. God, it's cold out there. Why don't they put heaters in these buildings?"

Tyler sniffed as he looked up from his workstation. "Because it never gets cold in Florida. Supposedly."

"Yeah, well, it's near freezing this morning." The computer tech rubbed her arms as she waited for the main computer system to come up for the day. "Got a couple of cases for Horatio this morning. But first I have to go up to IAB. I fixed Rick's laptop and got him his new docking station."

"Is that the one he dropped in the break room yesterday?"

"That's the one. And he better not drop it again. I spent most of yesterday fixing this thing and reloading it."

As the main monitor came to life, Emmie and Tyler heard shrieking and scrambling in the blue hallway. Labcoated techs dropped case files and darted to either side, shrieking and watching the floor.

"_Oh my God!"_

"_Ewwwww! It's a mouse!"_

"_Where'd it go?"_

"_Anybody see it?"_

Emmie craned her neck to look. "What's going on out there?"

"We got a mouse running around" Tyler said to his monitor matter-of-factly. "They get inside the building when it gets cold like this."

"Great. I hope it didn't chew any wires."

"Don't think so. But Maxine knocked over a spectrometer when it jumped on her labcoat. It ran into Ballistics, and Calleigh almost shot it. Now Tripp and Delko are running around trying to catch it before it does any more damage."

IAB agent Rick Stetler appeared at the doorway, oblivious to the panic in the blue hallway. Emmie glanced up at him and then scanned the floor. "Can I help you, Sir?"

Rick glanced at his watch impatiently and then at Emmie. "Still waiting for my laptop, Emmie. Got an investigation this morning. How soon can I expect it?"

She rubbed her arms and scanned the floor. "I'll be up there as soon as I can, Sir. Sounds like we got a mouse problem."

The IAB agent glared at the chaos in the blue hallway. "Gimme a break! A mouse isn't gonna hurt anything!"

"No, but they chew through computer wires, and you know what that means." Her eyes still on the floor, she groped for the black computer bag and held it up. "See? Got your laptop and your docking station right here. Unless you want to take it upstairs and plug it in yourself."

"No, that's what the County hired _you_ for!"

"Of course, Sir. I'll take care of it" she said deliberately as she gathered up equipment and walked out.

Warily Emmie settled back down, mindful of where she put her feet now. "Hey, Tyler? Do me a favor and watch the floor. I don't need that thing getting in here. Though Rick's probably right. It's just a mouse."

Just then something brown darted into her field of vision. Reflexively she shrieked and pushed back, nearly falling backward in her chair. "Eww!" She kept her distance as the furry critter zipped across her desk, fell to the floor and scrambled away.

"What are you so scared of, Emmie? It's just a mouse" Tyler said with a grin.

The cybertech gathered herself and straightened up her lab coat. "Yeah, very funny. It startled me." But Tyler gave her a knowing look.

An out-of-breath Delko darted into the computer lab. "You guys see that mouse run in here?"

"Yeah! It ran across my desk and over there!" She pointed toward the corner. "I don't see it."

"It's in the computer lab, Tripp!" he yelled down the hallway. "Well why didn't you catch it?"

Emmie sneered. "I'm not touching it!"

Without another word, Delko walked in and glanced around in the corner. He didn't say that those lab techs who dealt with blood, guts, guns, garbage and vermin every single day now ran for their lives when seeing a mouse—a living one at that.

Emmie wrinkled her nose and stood back while the black-haired CSI roll up his sleeve and reached behind a work table. "Yeah, there he is. I see him. Gotcha! You're not getting away this time!" He then stood up, holding out his trophy—a wide-eyed, terrified little brown mouse that flailed at the air as he held it by the tail. "There he is." He held it just inches from Emmie's face. "Isn't he cute?"

Emmie held up her hand and shrank back from him. "Eric, get that thing out of my face!"

"What are you scared of? He's not gonna hurt you" he said with that boyish grin.

"Why don't you take him home with you?"

"Nah, better not. Cal almost shot him."

"Why don't you put him in the IAB office? Rick Stetler probably needs a friend."

The CSI grinned like he liked the idea. "Nah, I'll just take him outside."

A crowd of labcoated techs stood at the doorway and applauded as Delko proudly walked out with his dangling, flailing prey.

_"Delko got him!" _

_"Tell Maxine she can come out of the ladies' room now!"_

Emmie's green eyes darted between the brown case file and the main monitor when she noticed a presence behind her.

"Miss Stockburne? A word?"

Horatio stood behind her expectantly, hands on hips, looking rather annoyed. She immediately put down the case file. "Oh, hey Sir. Everything okay?"

"That mouse Delko caught this morning. How did it find its way into IAB?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Don't know, Sir. I thought Delko put it outside. Why?"

"I was in Rick's office when that mouse climbed up his pants leg. He fell over and hit his head. Unfortunately, he knocked over his laptop again."

Emmie groaned and leaned on her hand. "Oh, God. How bad is it? The laptop, I mean."

The Lieutenant nodded with an understanding smile. "I think he did to his laptop what Valera did to the spectrometer." He smiled and dipped his head. "Frankly, between you and me, I didn't know he could scream that loudly."

"And what about the mouse?"

"I caught it and put it outside. It won't be coming back in this time."

Toolcase in hand, Emmie peered into the IAB office. "Okay to come in, Sir?"

Coffee had sluiced across the desk and now dripped onto the floor. A closer look showed that the silver laptop had sailed halfway across the office and landed in several pieces on the floor. The new docking station had been ripped from its foundation and now dangled from wires just inches from the floor. Emmie closed her eyes. This was going to be another all-day job.

A furious IAB agent cradled his throbbing forehead as he tried to gather up the storm of papers. "Come on in, Emmie! I need you to fix my laptop. Now, please. Problem?"

She shrugged. "This is probably gonna take a few hours, and it'll have to wait until Lieutenant Caine's work is done."

"The Chief wants this report on his desk tomorrow!" he protested.

"Well, I'd be happy to email the Chief and let him know you smashed your laptop for the third time when a mouse scared you. And you would've had his report, but you didn't bother to back it up."

Rick softened his look as he massaged the red spot on his forehead. "No, that's okay. Just get it fixed."

She nodded with a tight smile as she knelt down beside him and picked up scattered computer parts. "I thought you'd understand, Sir."

The angry, disheveled IAB agent was still cursing under his breath as he gathered up and sorted the scattered, coffee-stained papers. As Emmie packed the last of the computer carnage into her toolcase and turned to go, she smiled. She couldn't resist.

"Just keep telling yourself, Sir. It's a mouse. They don't hurt anything." And with that she left.


	9. Implied Knowledge

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: For this story and some others, I've decided to use Dave Benton. I really like him, and it was time poor Tyler took a break. **

* * *

**Implied Knowledge**

Computer techs Emmie Stockburne and Dave Benton had arrived early that morning to work a high-priority case for Jake Berkeley. Both of them hovered over the AV sound board, interpreting a grainy surveillance tape, when IAB agent Rick Stetler strode in importantly behind them, carrying a folder. "Emmie? Dave?" he said pleasantly.

Both techs looked at each other warily. Any time Rick was polite, something was about to happen.

"Morning, Sir. Jake's got a rush case. Need something?" Emmie wanted to know.

"No, no thanks. I just stopped in to say goodbye to both of you. I'll no longer need your help."

"You leaving?" Dave wanted to know.

He sniffed. "No, I still have to do this IAB crap. But I'll also be taking care of my own computer from now on. Which means I won't have to wait for you all the time."

Emmie leveled her eyes at him. "Okay Sir. You're scaring me. How are you going to do that?"

He produced a piece of paper from a folder and handed it to them. "Education credits."

Emmie leaned forward and took it from him. Dave looked on over her shoulder. "Wow. So you've been going to tech support classes at night all this time?" Emmie asked. "That's great! I'm really impressed. Congratulations."

"In fact, I'll even give you a few terms. 'Defrag' means 'defragmenting the hard drive.' And 'OS' means 'operating system.' So you won't be hearing from me much anymore. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go install my voice recognition software, so I can do all my reports myself. Don't feel too bad; I'll still stop by once in a while." With that he walked out confidently.

"So what are we gonna do with all that free time?" Dave asked with a grin.

Emmie smirked and looked at her watch. "Give it about an hour. One thing I've learned is when Rick fixes one thing he destroys about ten."

Fifty-five minutes later the computer lab's phone chirped. Emmie spun around and picked it up. "Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne. Hey, Sir. Did you click on the Start button? Your list of checked boxes? Did you uninstall the old software when you put in the new? The directions are what we call 'idiot-proof.' No Sir, I'm not implying anything about your intelligence. You're new at-. Hang on. Be easier for me to just come up there." She sighed and hung up. "I was off by what, five minutes?" she said to Dave as she grabbed her toolcase.

Emmie peered into Rick's office to find him sitting at his computer, arms folded, staring daggers in her direction. "Emmie, why can't you maintain this computer so it works right?" he snarled, motioning at his lifeless monitor.

She stood at a distance. "I can tell you the problem from here, Sir. Do you want to hear it?"

"What!"

"You forgot to turn it back on. Want me to take care of it?"

"I know how to turn a computer on!" he snapped as he searched the console frantically. "And you don't have to watch me do it!"

"It's that button in the front. See you in a little while, Sir."

Emmie sat in the computer lab, black transcriber in hand, recording her findings on Detective Berkeley's case when her phone chirped again. She quickly picked it up. "What's the problem, Sir? Call it a lucky guess. So this time you uninstalled the old program? Great. And you let the program walk you through the process? Your computer's turned—Okay, okay. Be right there, Sir." She hung up again and reached for her toolcase. "Tell me about that free time again, Dave?"

Emmie peeked into the IAB office to find Rick standing, hands on hips, glaring at her and then at the computer console. "Well?"

She gave him a knowing look as she spotted the CD drive poking slightly out of the console. "You said you were installing the new software, Sir?"

"Yeah! What's wrong with this thing now?" he demanded.

Without another word Emmie patiently opened her toolcase, pulled out her small pliers, and carefully extracted the stubborn drive. With her pliers she then picked up the two mangled CD's and placed them on the desk in front of him. "Sir, when the dialogue box tells you to place the new CD in the drive? You're supposed to take out the old one first."

Rick huffed at her. "How the hell was I supposed to know that? How can you be so sure?"

"I learned how to do more than pushups at Quantico, Sir. And by the way, your CD drive is broken. Which means I'll have to replace it. Do you know how to- Never mind. You might want to take a break or something." To prevent the rookie computer tech from doing any further damage, she deliberately positioned herself between him and the crippled computer, unplugging, unbolting, replacing, reconnecting, and testing. She then stepped back. "Your drive's fixed."

He glared at her. "And what am I supposed to do about my software?" he asked, motioning to the mangled discs in front of him. "That was expensive!"

"Check your warranty, Sergeant. If these aren't under warranty, they make great Frisbees." As she picked up her toolcase, she sidled up to him, unable to resist the temptation. "Incidentally, Sir, since you're looking for more terminology, I'd label this problem 'PEBKC.'"

Rick looked at her dryly. "Meaning?"

"Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair. See you later."

Jake Berkeley sat up as Emmie came in with his case folder. "Hey, Emmie. What's taking so long with this?" he wanted to know.

She smirked. "Sorry, Jake, but Rick's been trying to fix his own computer. And I kept having to go back and undo the damage. Sorry about that."

The homicide detective smiled. "Stetler's fixing his own computer? Damn! And I thought I had to deal with blood and guts!"

Her phone chirped again. "Hey, Sir. A little bird told me. Okay, so you uploaded the software? Now you have to boot your computer. Do you know how to boot—"

_CRASH!_

Cringing, Emmie held the phone away from her ear. "Sir, you okay? What happened?"

"I booted my computer, just like I said! Now the thing is on the floor in three pieces!"

The computer tech now dropped the phone on its cradle and leaned her face on her hand.

"What did he wreck this time?" the ponytailed tech wanted to know.

"He booted his computer, but not quite the way I told him to."

"So Stetler crashed the computer instead of booting it?" he said with a grin.

"More like he _trashed_ it. Hey Dave, I'm taking a sanity break. You mind finishing up Jake's file? If Rick Stetler calls again, tell him I'll be up there in, say, about six hours?"

"What do you want me to tell him?"

"I'll let you think of something, okay?" With that she slung her purse over her shoulder and walked out.

After walking around the building, gathering herself, Emmie stopped at the doorway of the computer lab. Her plain red chair had been replaced with the comfy oversize black one that she recognized as Rick's. The keyboard also lay crookedly on her console.

"Hey, Dave? Somebody been at my work station?"

He looked up briefly from his next project. "Yeah. Stetler came in a little while ago. Said you told him there was a problem between his keyboard and chair. So he came in here all ticked off and took yours. Said since you couldn't fix them properly, you could have the defective ones."

"I guess now he wants me to fix his 'booted' computer."

Dave nodded at the parts on the desk. "I took care of it. Took care of Berkeley's stuff. You might want to rebuild that one."

She settled into her new black comfy chair and hooked up her new keyboard. Rick had had a nice keyboard because he had repeatedly broken his old one.

"Actually, it's a good thing I didn't teach him the other term."

"Which one?"

"IAK. Stands for 'Idiot At Keyboard.'"


	10. Working the Bugs Out

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: The XXXX's represent bug splatter. **

* * *

**Working the Bugs Out**

"Eric, thanks for helping me with this. One thing about Florida I never could stomach is all the bugs. How do all these things get in here? Ugh!"

Miami-Dade computer tech Emmie Stockburne had borrowed a pair of coveralls, boots, and gloves as she and Delko moved older computer parts around in the spare equipment closet. It seemed as though with their every move, a new and exotic bug scurried across the floor, up a wall, or did a swan dive from a shelf. Both she and Delko found themselves dodging crickets, cockroaches, and other unidentifiable vermin. As soon as either of them killed one, it seemed another ten would come out to pay their respects to the fallen comrade.

"Hey, relax. It's just protein" Delko said to her with that grin of his. "Lobsters are just big sea bugs, you know."

Emmie wrinkled her nose at him. "Thanks for the biology lesson, Eric. Gross! Of course I wouldn't have to do this if a certain IAB agent hadn't trashed three printers last month. With the caseload, there was no time to fix them, and Tyler freaks out when a fly gets in the lab."

She reached down an old printer, only to have a parade of cockroaches and other vermin she couldn't identify crawl out from the insides. She quickly and carefully put it down on the floor and stepped away from the parade, shaking her hands off. "At this point, I don't even care if there are any in there when I hook it up to the IAB computer. If Rick has a problem with it, he can come in here and help me himself." With that Emmie sighed and shook dust off her latex gloves. "Okay, Eric. Let's lock this thing up. Thanks for helping me with this."

Delko shrugged. "So now what?"

"I'm gonna leave this printer on the floor and let these things get out of here by themselves. I'll come back in a little while and it up to Rick's computer."

"Can't you spray in here?"

"I can't. It'll damage the equipment."

"Worse than Stetler does?"

Emmie crept into the closet several hours later and checked the old printer. Satisfied that its tenants had vacated the premises, she carefully picked up the printer, wiped and dusted it off, set it on her cart, and wheeled it over to the IAB office to hook up. Thankfully, Rick was nowhere in sight.

The phone chirped in the computer lab. Tyler swung around and picked it up. "Computer lab, Tyler Jensen. I have no idea, Rick. Emmie changed it out an hour or so ago." He raised his eyebrows. "What? I'll tell her."

Emmie looked at him warily. "Tell me he didn't destroy another one!"

Tyler looked back at her. "I think you better get up there. Sounds like Rick's having a conniption."

"How can you tell? Let him know I'll be right up."

She stood at the doorway of Rick's office to see him sneering at the floor and then glaring at her. "Okay Sir, what's going on?" she wanted to know.

"Emmie, couldn't you bring me a printer that didn't have wildlife in it?" he snarled, pointing to a cockroach and some unidentifiable green bug scurrying across the floor.

"Sir, I don't think you're allowed to bring your pets to work. The County health ordinance has a—"

"You weren't hired for your comedic skills! Now, you want to do something about this problem?"

"Hold on." She took two tissues out of her pocket, captured the scurrying vermin, wrapped them in a tight ball, and dropped them in Rick's wastebasket. "Done. Tell me Sir, with all the things you police officers deal with, how is it you're scared of bugs?"

"You didn't kill them, did you?"

"They're bugs, not escape artists."

"What if those things get in my office again?"

Trying hard to main her professionalism, Emmie rolled her eyes and laid some more tissues on his desk. "In that case, Sir, you just pick them up and throw them away again. Or take them down the hall into the bathroom. Or if you're really bored, put them in the top drawer of Lieutenant Caine's desk!"

Rick narrowed his eyes at her. "How the hell did this happen anyway? Can't you and Tyler keep that supply closet clean?"

"I can, Sir. Problem is, they sprayed in here last week, and the bugs needed somewhere to go, so they hid in my spare closet. I haven't had time to fix the three printers you trashed last month, so I had to give you an older one. I mean, this is Florida."

"I know where we are, Emmie. And you still need to take care of that equipment. That's county property!"

I undertand. In the meantime, please don't trash this one. I might have to pull an alligator out of the next one!"

Rick huffed at her. "Fine. Just make sure there aren't any more in there before you leave."

"Fair enough. I'm sure it's okay now, but if you'll let me get in there, I'll just run a test on it." Emmie sat at Rick's computer where she picked up a piece of blank paper and clicked the keyboard, watching the printer as it printed a test page. She picked it up and examined it. She shrugged. "Looks okay to me, Sir." She then removed the hatch and shone her flashlight inside. "Looks good. Like I said, it's an older one, but it should keep you going until I can fix another one."

"Good, because I have to print off a very important memo to take to a meeting this afternoon."

"You should be set, Sir. See you later." With that she left.

As Emmie set the AV equipment for one of Natalia's cases, Horatio stopped by. "Miss Stockburne."

She put down the Allen wrench and turned toward him. "Hey Sir. How did the meeting go?"

He produced a memo and set it on her desk. "When you cleaned the bugs out of Rick's printer, I believe you missed one. Pay particular attention to the paragraph that was supposed to congratulate Sergeant Stetler for his job performance in efficiency and attention to detail for last month."

Emmie studied the piece of paper. She stiffened up when she noticed a strangely-shaped black blotch.

_Special congratulations to Sergeant XXXXXXXXXXXXX for high marks on efficiency during the last month!_

"I guess there was one left." Covering Rick's name was a huge black blotch that she recognized as bug carnage. "I, uh, think that one got stuck in the toner drum." She looked ruefully at her boss. "How's he taking it?"

Horatio raised his eyebrows. "Expect to get an earful when he gets over the trauma."

Emmie looked at him dryly. "With all due respect Sir, the most efficient thing I saw him do last month is ruin three printers. Tyler, you know where I'll be."

The Lieutenant then leaned toward them. "That's okay. Those two bugs I found in my desk drawer?"

"How nice. You think Rick had something to do with that?"

He turned to leave and donned his sunglasses. "Let's see whether Stetler checked his back pockets."


	11. Justice on the Fly

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: This one is dedicated to MUMMACASS. Here's your daily laugh, as I promised. **

* * *

**Justice on the Fly**

Horatio looked up when he heard a tap on his open door. "Miss Stockburne. How can I help you?"

Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne looked at her boss quizzically. "Hey, Sir. Did you order a…" She glanced at the crinkled invoice again. "Digital Fly Swatter? It's an electronic game that hooks up to the different computers, swats bugs, and keeps score of hits and kills for points?"

The Lieutenant sat back, never changing his expression. "I did."

"Sir, I don't get it. You made me get rid of all the Solitaire and Minesweeper games. Why the change?"

"Actually, there's a practical purpose in all this. First, it's a team building exercise that tests skill and coordination. Second, well, you know we've had a bug problem in the building."

Emmie shrugged. "I'm with you so far."

"But most importantly, we have another situation. Word came down from the chief that we need officers for decoy detail. There's a serial mugger in Miami who's preying on female tourists, and we have every female officer out there that we can spare as a decoy, even Calleigh and Natalia. But the chief said he needed one more body, and he's not budging an inch, even if a male officer has to go in drag. Even Rick isn't immune from this one. And since nobody wants to put on a dress and high heels, I decided that by the end of the week, whoever has the lowest score on this game gets to do mugger decoy for the month. Eric, Ryan, Frank, and even Rick are competing. Whichever one of them gets the lowest number of hits and kills gets to dress up for the line of duty. So you and Dave Benton get busy wiring up the game stations, because the competition starts tomorrow morning. You will give me everybody's scores on Friday afternoon. Any questions, Miss Stockburne?"

"You have four officers competing, but you ordered five stations. Why?"

"How long have you been maintaining Rick's computer? Any more questions?"

She closed her eyes. "Uh, yes Sir. Is it too late to put in for my vacation this week?"

* * *

Emmie carefully studied the mapping while Dave Benton did the necessary plugging in and installing of the digital fly swatters. "These things that look like tennis rackets are the wireless fly swatters that score one point for a swing, five points for a hit, and ten points for a kill. They're connected to the keyboard, so the keyboard has to be working" she noted. "Dave, it scares me to think I spent four years in Quantico for this."

"Yeah" Dave chuckled as he handed her another wire. "Nobody told me about this when I did IT trainig."

Emmie was inspecting Ryan Wolfe's electronic fly swatter station when IAB agent Rick Stetler stood at the doorway of the Trace Lab, hands on hips, eyebrows raised at her. "Miss Stockburne. You better not be giving Mr. Wolfe any advantages. I don't care if you HAVE been seeing him! If I have to play fair, so does he. In fact, if I find out you tampered with his computer, you'll both get investigated. Clear?"

Emmie looked at him dryly. "Don't worry, Sir. You need not lecture me on playing by the rules."

Any flying or crawling bug that wandered into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab was likely to meet a cruel fate. Tuesday morning, as Emmie and Dave worked cases, Frank Tripp and Delko shattered the silence as they furiously chased a hapless moth into the computer lab, swinging and swatting the walls, elbowing one another out of the way in a cutthroat competition to gain more points.

"Move, Tripp!" Delko shouted, swinging wildly at the prize that flew just out of his reach.

"You look cute in a dress, Delko!" Frank shot back as Delko nearly smacked the bald spot on his head by accident. Dave and Emmie covered their heads and cowered for a second before Emmie stood up, clenching her fists, and gathering her best Marine Corps voice.

"Out! You're gonna kill _us_!" she barked, walking over to the flailing critter, picking it up by one wing, and releasing it into the hallway. "It went that way! Go get it!" She stood at the doorway and pointed at the wandering prize. Delko and Frank then slipped past her and chased it down the hallway, electronic swatters raised like Samurai swords.

The computer tech fell back into her chair and looked skyward. "Dave, it's getting dangerous in here."

The phone chirped to let her know she had an internal call. She glanced at the caller ID.

R STETER—IAB

"No rest for the weary."

Emmie stepped into the IAB agent's office cautiously, carrying her tool case. "Hey, Sir. You said your keyboard's not working?"

Rick stood imposingly in front of her, eyes blazing, sweating and breathing hard as though he had just finished a sprint. He held his mangled keyboard in one hand, the mouse still connected and hanging on the floor. "Emmie, did you bring me a new keyboard like I asked you to?"

"Sorry Sir, but I have to find out what's wrong with the old one. If I can fix it myself, then I have to. Lieutenant Caine's orders."

"Well then try to fix it!" he snarled, thrusting it at her. "As long as my keyboard's broken I can't use that stupid game! _And it's one I intend to win_!"

Glaring at him, she took what was left of the keyboard from him and studied it. The CONTROL, ALT and DELETE buttons were missing. A quick scan of his work station showed that the black keytops were stuck upside down on his desk. She reached over to pick them up when she noticed fly carnage stuck to two of them. She wrinkled her nose. "Uh, Sir, with all due respect, weren't you supposed to hit those with the Digital Fly Swatter? That's twenty points you just killed right there."

"I had to get them before they flew out the door. What are you laughing at?"

"I, uh, don't think you get any points hitting them with your keyboard."

Rick glared at her, hands on hips. "But you're gonna go into that program of yours and add them in, aren't you? I hit them, didn't I? That's two flies right there. Twenty points."

Emmie stiffened up and looked right back at him. "Didn't you just get through telling me that if you have to play fair, so does everybody else?"

He huffed at her. "Well then can you fix my keyboard?"

The computer tech quickly snapped on some latex gloves and reattached the keys before placing it back on his desk. "Fixed."

"The least you can do is clean them!"

She looked skyward. "You want a lot, don't you, Sir?" She quickly spritzed the freshly repaired keyboard with cleaner and wiped the keys. "Finished. See you later." With that she left.

With that emergency resolved, Emmie then stepped back into the computer lab and brought up the program to check the current score. Dave raised his eyebrows as he watched her lean her head on her hand and laugh uncontrollably.

"What's so funny?"

"When Rick swatted those flies with his keyboard, he ended up resetting his program. How do we tell him he just wiped out all his points?"

The bearded computer tech grinned. "You're the senior tech. You can tell him."

* * *

Monday Morning. Horatio stood over Emmie and discussed a case when both of them heard a loud clomping down the hallway, accompanied by snickers, wolf whistles, drowned out by a torrent of obscenities. Within seconds Emmie and Horatio found themselves face-to-face with what could only be described as a tall, bony, hairy version of Yelina, wearing a shoulder-length black, curly wig, blouse, miniskirt, fishnet stockings and pumps while sporting a white oversize purse. Horatio smiled while Emmie quickly grabbed a Kleenex and turned her head away to politely cover her laughter. Dave pretended to look for something while hiding his laughter.

"I suppose I should thank Emmie for the shoes" Rick growled, his bony ankles straining to keep his balance. "Something funny, Benton?"

Emmie clenched her fists and breathed deeply to control her laughter. "That's okay, Sir. I'm the only female in the lab with feet as big as yours" she said weakly.

"But you can expect a full investigation when I get back!"

The Lieutenant then stood face to face with the IAB agent, hands on hips. "You know why you lost, Rick."

Rick lowered his head and narrowed his eyes at his nemesis, the black curls almost covering his face. "You have something you want to say to me?"

The Lieutenant cocked his head at his nemesis. "As a matter of fact I do. Next time shave your legs before you put on fishnets, Rick. See you in a month."


	12. Dude, Where's My Computer?

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I can't remember who submitted this idea to me, but I give my thanks. You know who you are. Hopefully.**

* * *

**Dude, Where's My Computer?**

Senior cybertech Emmie Stockburne thumbed through case files as Dave Benton stepped in. "Morning, Dave."

Dave nodded at her. "Hey, Emmie. So what'd the CSI's throw at us this morning?"

"The usual. Got a couple of rush cases from Calleigh, but I can take care of those. I want you to get the new intern up to speed. He should be coming in this morning. Think his name's Larry."

"Nope. Can't."

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows. "Why? What happened?"

The ponytailed computer tech shrugged as he booted up the AV computer. "Stetler snagged him."

"What do you mean 'Stetler snagged him'?"

"Stetler said Larry was a good enough IT intern so he was gonna keep him. And you know where we rank on the food chain."

She slapped the brown case folders on her desk. "So let me get this straight. Rick grabbed our summer IT guy, even though he's just a student?"

He never took his eyes off the monitor. "That's the way it looks. Says the guy really knows his stuff, and nobody but Larry is gonna touch his computer all summer long."

Emmie stood up from her desk. "Well good. I guess that means all summer you're stuck doing the stuff nobody else wants."

"Thanks. I know where I rank on the food chain, too. Speaking of which…."

IAB agent Rick Stetler walked in with a tall, thin, dark-haired student in tow. He wore a yellow-striped polo shirt and slouched slightly with his hands in his pockets. In fact, he resembled a yellow jacket.

"Emmie. Dave. I'd like you to meet Larry, the summer computer tech. Larry, this is Emmie Stockburne and Dave Benton of the computer lab."

Somehow Larry seemed like a young Rick Stetler—tall and gangly, only wearing a loud polo shirt instead of a loud tie. With a proud smile, Larry held one hand up. "Hey."

Rick stood by with his hands in his pockets and glanced proudly at his protégé. "I've decided that Larry is gonna work for IAB and lend me computer support for the summer. He seems to know what he's doing, and I'll show him everything I know."

Dave and Emmie glanced at each other. Both of them knew what this meant. "Larry, call me if you have any questions about anything, okay?" Emmie insisted as she leveled her eyes at Rick. "Computer-related, that is."

Larry nodded hesitantly. "Uh, yeah, okay. Thanks."

Rick sniffed. "We'll be okay, Emmie. Dave. Don't worry. "

"Sir, I fix your computers, and you're telling me not to worry?"

Rick smiled confidently. "Larry, I'm gonna need you to clean my computer first." He glared at Emmie and Dave matter-of-factly. "The staff here doesn't do a very good job of keeping things clean around here."

Emmie leveled her eyes at the IAB agent as he led Larry out.

"So how long you give it?" Dave asked with a slight grin.

"Give what? The cleaning or the first disaster call?"

"Yeah."

Emmie was halfway through a bank fraud case for Horatio when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Larry pushing a cart down the blue hallway with what she recognized as Rick's computer equipment. She raised her finger and was about to call after him.

"Not worried, are you Emmie?" Dave teased.

"Uh, yeah I am" she retorted.

Horatio stopped by and peered around the computer lab. "Miss Stockburne. Mr. Benton."

"Oh, hey, Sir" Emmie said. "Just about done with that bank fraud case you sent me."

"That's not why I'm here. Sergeant Stetler had been roaming the halls looking for Larry. Said he gave him his computer to clean and fix up and hasn't seen him. He's getting on the lab's last good nerves. Would you mind finding him so we can all get back to solving cases?"

Emmie raised her eyebrows at Dave. "You know the deal."

He smirked, his eyes still on the monitor. "Yes, Boss."

Half an hour later Dave stepped back into the lab.

"I was about to put an All Points out for you" Emmie said. "Where've you been?"

His ponytail swung as he shook his head. "I looked in the storage room and all of the labs. I even looked in that back area. Larry's not there."

"Hmm. I wonder where he could be."

At that moment the phone chirped. Emmie clicked the button. "Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne. No Sir. I saw Larry take your stuff down the hall, I don't know, just before I went to lunch. No Sir, I distinctly heard you say that Larry was giving you support and that nobody was touching your stuff except him. Hold on." She turned toward Dave. "Dave, you're my witness. Did you hear Sergeant Stetler say that Larry was taking care of his stuff?"

Dave smiled as he clicked the keyboard. "That's what I heard, too. My story and I'm sticking to it."

"And that we don't take good enough care of his stuff?"

"Yep. That too."

Emmie shrugged. "No Sir, we're just doing what you said. Haven't seen him since then. Have a nice afternoon." With that she clicked off the ANSWER button.

"What's going on?"

"Rick said he sent Larry to clean his computer parts. That was a couple of hours ago. Any intern under my watch could do it in under fifteen minutes."

There was a timid knock at the door of the lab. "Hey, uh, Emmie? Dave?"

Larry stood at the door, his hand in his pocket.

"Geez, Larry! We were starting to think you took off with IAB's computer. What's wrong?"

"I uh, cleaned Sergeant Stetler's computer, but now I can't get the water out of it."

Dave and Emmie slowly looked at each other and then at the hapless intern.

"Larry? What do you mean by 'can't get the water out of it'?"

"Uh, well, can I show you?"

Emmie looked around warily as she followed him to the break room.

Several techs and CSI's were watching and snickering as he pointed nervously to the dishwasher. A long black cord hung out of the door that she recognized as a computer plug. Steam poured out as he opened the dishwasher door. She was greeted with the sight of a nice clean dripping keyboard, monitor, and console.

She froze in her tracks, trying to register this in her mind. "Larry, tell me you didn't."

The young intern stared at her, nonplussed. "The dust remover didn't work. I stuck the cords outside the dishwasher because I didn't want them to get wet."

"Hey, don't laugh, Emmie. Probably got Stetler's coffee stains out" Jake Berkeley said with a smile.

He looked at her ruefully. "I screwed up, didn't I?"

Horatio stood behind the amused crowd, hands on hips. "Larry? I want you to go ahead and take those out of the dishwasher. Dry them off, bring them back upstairs, and reassemble them in Sergeant Stetler's office. If he has a problem with it, tell him to call me, Lieutenant Caine." He looked at Emmie now. "Miss Stockburne, I'll make sure that Larry reports to you tomorrow. You make sure he gets the proper training."

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "Will do, Sir. And Larry? I'll show you what to do, okay?"

He looked at the Lieutenant sheepishly. "Thanks."

As Horatio walked away, he donned his sunglasses. "Don't worry, Larry. When you're dealing with Sergeant Stetler, it all comes out in the wash."


	13. Educating Jairus

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. My computer got hacked into, and my software shut everything down before any real damage could be done. Ah, the joys of fixing programs.**

**"Cookies" is old slang for nipples. **

* * *

**Educating Jairus**

It was Friday afternoon in the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. Senior Computer Tech Emmalyn Stockburne picked up the phone. "Miami-Dade Computer Lab, Emmie Stockburne.

"Emmie. It's Peter Elliot from the Secret Service Office."

"Hey! Inspector Gadget! What's happening on the Dark Side?"

"Well, I'm told you're the best computer tech mentor in Miami. I was hoping you could do me a big favor. We've been training a summer intern named Jairus, who's pretty good, but, well, he's got an ego problem. He thinks he knows it all and can handle anything. I was hoping maybe you could give him a challenge he could handle at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab."

She leaned back with a smile. "Peter, you're such a schmooze."

"Comes from all those years with the Bureau. 'Sides, I'd rather go after counterfeiters than babysit this egomaniac."

An evil grin crossed Emmie's face now. "Tell him to report to me Monday morning at eight o'clock sharp. Oh, and Peter? I promise you that Jairus will fold like a lawn chair in less than a week. And I'm in a betting mood, so what do you say? Dinner at the Portside Restaurant Friday night says he can't go one week under my supervision! I'm thinking their lobster scampi sounds mighty good."

"You're on!" Peter Elliot promised her, a smile in his voice. "How are you gonna do it?"

"Trust me."

* * *

Jairus was a twenty-one-year-old summer intern with the Florida Technical Institute. He had wavy blonde hair, studs in his eyebrows, and a shirt he didn't tuck in. He was bright, energetic, and just as full of himself as Agent Elliot had warned her. He arrogantly plopped himself down in the computer lab's extra chair. "So, what do I do? I'm an A student, I've done it all. Webpage design, CODIS, AFIS, tracing, you name it. I can handle anything!" So what's first?"

Emmie smiled back at him. "Jairus, for this week, you have one purpose in life. You will be doing tech support for our Internal Affairs agent, Rick Stetler. Just one week. Just one person. Just one office. And don't forget that you have to be professional with this person at all times, or you'll get a failing grade. Think you can handle it?"

Jairus folded his arms and snorted. "Are you serious? Is that it?"

"That's it."

Jairus leaned back in the chair arrogantly. "So you're just gonna let me sail through to my graduation. Thank you Emmie Stockburne!"

She just smiled knowingly at the monitor while clicking keys.

The phone chirped indicating that Rick had another computer issue. "That's Sergeant Stetler, Jairus. I'm gonna let you grab it."

"How do you know?"

"That's the only reason he ever calls here. I'm gonna let you handle it from start to finish. Remember, you can handle anything, remember? You just said that five minutes ago. "

Jairus smirked as he picked it up. "This is Jairus. Your mouse is broken? Can you describe the problem?" Emmie chuckled as she listened to her new young intern rattle through sophisticated solutions and growing more frustrated by the minute. "Just a minute, Sergeant Stetler. I'll be in your office to look at your problem."

Jairus returned five minutes later, chuckling. "Can you believe it? He said his mouse was broken. It was on the edge of the pad, and he got his shorts in a wad, saying he couldn't move it any further! So I showed him how to pick it up and move it with his hand. God, what an idiot!"

Emmie leaned on her hand. "Welcome to my world. Oh, uh, did you document that, Jairus?"

Jairus gave her a blank look. "I was supposed to document that?"

The computer tech handed him a clipboard. "It was a legitimate call, Jairus. That means you keep a log. Name, date, time, and description of the problem. We never know when Tallahassee's gonna audit us. It's my responsibility to handle a tight ship." She handed him the incident log. "If there's anything you're gonna learn from me kid, it's how to cover your backside."

Jairus scribbled down the information and then sat back with a smile. "Easy week."

Emmie resumed her case work. _Week's just getting started, Junior!_

Two hours later Rick called again with an issue. "Go take care of it" Emmie instructed.

Five minutes later Jairus came back into the computer lab looking like he had seen a ghost. Emmie looked up at him. "Well? You okay, Jairus?"

"He called me to say his computer was running slow. So I went up to check it. When I told him I wanted to see his cookies, he started cussing me out, told me he didn't lean that way and said to get the hell out of his office! Maybe you better go up there, Emmie."

She shook her head. "One person, one office, one job. You can handle _anything_, remember? But I'll go with you, okay?"

Tuesday morning. The phone chirped to indicate that Rick was calling again. Jairus looked at her with wide eyes.

"You know what to do, Jairus" she said, motioning toward the phone.

"This is Jairus. You said your printer's not working, Sergeant Stetler? Is the icon showing? An icon is the picture on your screen that—well, okay. Hold down the 'control' button and hit 'P.' The letter 'P', Sergeant. 'P'. On your keyboard." Jairus huffed. "'P' ON YOUR KEYBOARD, SERGEANT!"

Emmie's eyes widened. She whipped around in terror and put up her hand. 'JAIRUS, DON'T TELL HIM THAT!" She gritted her teeth and cringed, her hand over her face.

"I am NOT a sick pervert, Sergeant. There is nothing wrong with my intelligence. We're one of the best institutes in the country. You don't have to insult me, Sergeant."

Emmie opened one eye in time to see Jairus with his eyes glazed over, holding the phone away from his ear, listening again, and, hearing nothing, hanging up. "He didn't listen to a word I said, Emmie."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God for that!"

"So now what?"

She looked at him firmly. "You go fix the problem and document it. Didn't you say you could handle anything?" She watched the self-assuredness slip away from his face as he skulked toward the elevator.

It didn't escape her attention that Jairus was showing signs of post-traumatic stress disorder each time the phone rang. Rick called again just before noon. Jairus looked at her with terrified eyes. "Emmie? Please get that?" he begged.

* * *

"Hey Peter, thanks for dinner. Told you I could do it" she said, leaning back in her chair and enjoying the view of the cruise ships at the Portside Restaurant. "God, I always loved the view here."

"I don't get it. What happened?" Agent Elliot wanted to know.

"Not sure. He worked under my supervision for two days, and then Wednesday morning I got a call from the Institute saying Jairus wouldn't be returning. Apparently he switched to the Accounting program. Computers just weren't his thing anymore."

"Come on. Tell me. What's your secret?"

She smiled wickedly. "Classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Emmie!"

"I had him do absolutely nothing but tech support for Rick Stetler. And thank God. I already have to deal with one arrogant idiot."

He laughed. "Worked for Rick? Now that's cruel!"

She sipped her coffee and smiled at him. "Hey. I can handle anything. Remember?"


	14. Life's Little Storms

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: To understand this story a little better, here's my Ryan/Emmie series in a nutshell. Ryan truly loves Emmie for who she is. Rick Stetler, in the meantime, is interested only in her political connections and her rich daddy.**

* * *

**Life's Little Storms**

Ryan Wolfe dodged into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab from the latest summer storm to unleash its fury over South Florida. He now glanced behind him as he stepped into the computer lab carrying his latest case file. Shivering in the air conditioning, he shook his arms off and then smoothed out his wet hair with his fingers. His gray jacket was speckled by the fat rain drops.

"Hey Emmie. Wow! It's really coming down out there."

Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne smiled and gave him a sideways glance. "Hi Sweet Stuff."

"Careful. Never know when you-know-who might come sniffing around."

She backed her chair up from the main console and groaned as she stretched her arms and arched her neck. "Ouch. I really need to adjust this work station. It's way too low, and my neck is killing me. Sounds like it's getting bad out there."

That area of the lab had no windows, but the thunder and rain seemed louder by the second. Ryan dipped his head to listen. "Yeah, in fact it sounds worse. And everybody else is out in the field right now. Even Horatio."

Suddenly the lights flickered right before thunder gave a deafening crash. The building vibrated. Startled, Emmie stiffened up and looked at the ceiling.

"Wow! Sounds like that one was right on top of us! I think I'm gonna shut some of this stuff down, since nobody else is here. Rather not risk a blowout." She reached down and flipped switches behind the console. Monitors and AV equipment went dark one by one as the humming of computers ceased. "I'll just turn it back on when this thing passes."

Ryan sighed as he laid the brown case folder on the desk next to her. "I guess this one will have to wait until you turn everything back on again." He then looked around. "Kind of quiet with everybody gone."

Emmie glanced at the lifeless computer equipment and then at Ryan. She leaned her chin on her hand and gave him a coy look. "Well, if you're not busy, I could sure use a big, strong man to help me with something."

IAB agent Rick Stetler furiously yanked up his phone and stabbed numbers while glaring at his dark, lifeless computer monitor. It had suddenly blinked off while he was reading emails for one of his most important investigations. The wet, roaring darkness outside of the Miami-Dade Police Headquarters meant nothing to him. Storm or no storm, he needed that computer back up and running. Immediately.

"Computer Lab, Emmie Stockburne" a strained voice said on the other end.

Rick huffed impatiently. "Emmie, my computer went dead. I'm in the middle of an important case, and I need you to fix it now, please."

"Hey, Sir. The lightning probably took out your surge protector. Actually, can you hold on a minute? My hands are kind of occupied. Just a second. Putting you on the speaker." Rick heard several clicks and then background noise. "Okay, Sir. You say your computer went dead?" She then giggled. "Stop it!"

Rick furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. "Is there somebody else in there with you?"

Emmie grunted slightly. "Just CSI Wolfe, Sir. Why?"

The IAB agent huffed. "As I was saying, my computer's completely out! Mind taking care of the problem? Wolfe's stuff can wait."

"Actually, Sir, there's not a lot I can do until this storm rolls through. Could you hold on for about thirty seconds? I think CSI Wolfe and I can finish this thing up pretty quickly. Be right with you."

Rick felt his blood pressure rise as he gripped the handset more tightly. He had long suspected that snarky little patrol officer had been muscling in on Emmie and all those goodies she owned. His eyes blazed when he thought he heard heavy breathing and shuffling in the background.

"Damn, that guy's impatient" he overheard Ryan whisper.

Emmie giggled between breaths. "Not as impatient as you, sometimes! Hang on. Let me just get these off." Rick heard rustling and rattling in the background. "There."

"Ready when you are."

"Let's do this."

Ryan drew a breath. "Move your leg so I can get all the way in there."

"Okay. How's that? Ooh, this thing's gonna give me a hernia!"

Rick now gripped the edge of his desk hard enough to scratch it as he heard more heavy breathing, grunting, and scraping in the background.

"Don't get that stuff on my skirt! Makes a stain I can't wash out!" Rick heard Emmie say, sounding like she was out of breath.

"Hey, sorry. Guess I'm just messy, okay?" Ryan retorted, sounding equally worn down.

Emmie's voice sounded strained. "Here. Push a little harder. I'm gonna get on top here. Make it easier. Yeah, that's good."

Rick's breathing quickened as he heard more shuffling in the background.

Emmie sighed with relief. She had a smile in her voice. "Oh, yeah. This is great. Now I could do this all day long!"

Ryan took a deep breath. "Come on already, Emmie! How long am I supposed to hold this?"

The IAB agent had heard enough. That lifeless computer and the impossible deadline no longer mattered. He slammed the handset down almost hard enough to smash it. Tightening his lips, he bolted up out of his chair and stormed through the hallway toward the elevator, his paisley tie trailing behind him.

_You're dead meat this time, Wolfe! _

Rick clenched his fists and continued to breathe deeply as he bolted off the elevator in the direction of the computer lab. He couldn't see anyone through the windows, but then something else caught his attention. He craned his neck when he spotted Emmie's left hand gripping the edge of the computer table and pushing upward. His eyes narrowed, and he tightened his lips as he stormed through the door.

"Wolfe! Emmie! What the hell is going on in here?" he roared.

Both Ryan and Emmie whipped their heads up at him in surprise.

Ryan sighed as he took his hands off the computer table he had been positioning. He looked dryly at the fuming IAB agent as he stood up slowly and dusted himself off.

"Sergeant Stetler. Run out of things to investigate?"

Emmie quickly set down the coil of gray computer cables she had been holding and glanced behind her at the phone. "Oh, hey Sir. Sorry, this took a little longer than I expected. CSI Wolfe was helping me raise up my work station. I had to hold the cables while he pushed the desk against the wall."

Rick locked eyes with the CSI. "Wolfe! Don't you have somewhere else to go?"

Ryan glanced back at the computer tech. "Call me when you got that search done, Emmie" he said to her while he shot the angry IAB agent a glare.

"Sure. See you later, Ryan" she called after him, wiping dirt off her hands with a paper towel. She then turned her attention to Rick. "Didn't mean to forget about you, Sir."

A white plastic bottle lay on its side in a small puddle next to her monitor. She immediately picked it up with two fingers and wiped it dry. "Wolfe knocked over a bottle of Citrix when he was moving this thing. This is stuff you never want to get on your skirt. It makes a nasty bleach stain."

"I'll take your word for it" he muttered.

Emmie tipped her head up to listen for the storm. "Well, sounds like it's clearing up out there. How about we take a look at your problem?"

Up in Rick's office, the computer tech flipped switches, watching Rick's computer come back to life. Satisfied that everything worked properly, she stood up.

"Looks like you're back in business. The lightning just tripped your surge protector, and it shut everything down. One of my easier fixes."

Unfazed, Rick Stetler folded his arms and glared at her. "Emmie, what was going on between you and Wolfe?" he demanded.

She paused. "Actually, Sir, CSI Wolfe and I were the only two in the lab. He came in and asked me if I needed any help with something. Well, I told him I was hurting, and could he give me some help. So he had me sit on top of my console while he pushed it back and forth so I wouldn't have so much pain." She turned to leave. "And now I'm going back to the computer lab so CSI Wolfe and I can finish what we started before everybody gets back here."

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Fine! But next time you be ready to fix my computer when I tell you."

Not able to resist the temptation, Emmie sidled up to him. "Actually, Sir, I would rather have asked you, but I know how much you hate getting messy." She whispered with a smile in her voice. "See you later."


	15. The Soda Jerk

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I'd like to thank all of you for your wonderful reviews. More to come. **

* * *

**The Soda Jerk**

CSI Eric Delko and Detective Jake Berkeley locked eyes as they sat at the break room table. Neither one was going to flinch. Two green cans of ginger ale sat on the white table in front of them.

"What the matter, Delko? 'Fraid you'll lose?" Jake sneered.

Delko smirked. "Nah, man. I just don't want to be around when _you_ lose! I hate to see you crying when I take Calleigh out!"

"Yeah? Well you didn't do anything yet. 'Cause I think you're scared."

At that moment Maxine Valera stepped into the break room. She could tell right away that Jake and Delko were in the middle of butting heads over Calleigh. Again.

Delko glanced at her without turning his head. "Hey Maxine. Need you to do us a favor. Don't mind Berkeley here. He's too scared to ask."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this!"

Delko glanced at the two green cans on the table. "See those ginger ales? We need you to shake up one for us. Winner gets a free drink and a date with Calleigh. Loser wears it."

"Hey guys. Those belong to Stetler. You know what's gonna happen if he catches you stealing his food" she warned.

"He ain't here today. Besides, loser can buy him another one. Sound good?" Jake said, still locking eyes with Delko.

The CSI gave Jake that boyish grin. "Hey. Berkeley can buy Stetler a whole twelve pack, since he won't be taking Calleigh out."

Maxine smirked. "Why can't you two just flip a coin like everybody else? Here." Delko and Jake turned their backs while she grabbed one soda and shook it furiously. She then shuffled them around quickly on the table. "If this makes a mess, one of you is gonna clean this up. DNA Lab has kitchen cleanup this month. That's us, in case you forgot."

The CSI and the homicide detective turned to her. "Thanks, Maxine" Jake said with a confident grin. "Delko won't mind cleaning up."

As Maxine stepped out, IAB agent Rick Stetler ambled in, his eyes scanning for anything that might be wrong. He stopped and his eyes widened when he saw his two ginger ale cans on the white table.

"Delko! Berkeley! What do you think you're doing with my ginger ales?"

They turned to him, feigning innocence. "Hey. Sergeant Stetler" Delko said with that big grin. "We thought you were in meetings all day. We were just, uh…."

"You were just _what_?" he growled, hands on hips, showing that badge at them. Without another word he reached down and snatched up one of the green cans. "You two decide between yourselves who's gonna put my other ginger ale back in the fridge. I'll just take this one for my lunch, if you don't mind."

Jake put his hand up urgently. "Hey, uh, Stetler—"

Rick narrowed his eyes at him. "You're lucky I don't investigate you for stealing my lunch! Now if you'll excuse me." With that he left.

Delko now softened his look. "So now what? We tried to tell him, man."

The homicide detective shrugged. "I say we go out back and just flip a coin."

"That's the first thing you've said right all day."

* * *

Senior computer tech Emmie Stockburne was on her knees, crawling under the desk, shining her flashlight over a mashed gray cable when her phone chirped. She backed out and clicked the answer button. "Computer lab, Emmie Stockburne."

The IAB agent stared daggers at the computer parts that now took up most of his desk. "Emmie, do I need to remind you my computer is still sitting here in pieces? I have another meeting in an hour, and I can't check my emails. Want to take care of this problem? Now, please?"

Emmie looked skyward. "Hey, Sir. Sorry for the wait. You ran over my last AV cable with your chair, so I have to splice this one. You want to log in here to check your emails?"

Rick huffed. "I shouldn't have to go all over the place to do my work. So you're telling me the only thing I'm waiting for is a cable?"

"That's basically it. Lieutenant Caine took my last one, so I have to seal this one by hand. I put in a rush order for more, but they won't get here until tomorrow."

Rick leaned forward and began to tap the desk with his finger. "Emmie, I don't care if that cable has a crack in it. The County pays you to keep the computers in this lab up and running at all times. The mayor's office and the FBI are waiting for my reports. Sergeant Tripp is in the field, so use his. Now, please."

The computer tech huffed. "Yes Sir" she said deliberately and clicked off the answer button.

At the doorway she met Delko as he was heading toward the front door with his field kit. "Hey Emmie."

"Hi Eric. Hey, looks like you're heading out to the field. If you don't mind, I'm gonna steal your computer cable. A certain IAB agent ran over my last one, and he can't wait for a replacement. Or so he says."

Delko grinned. "Oh yeah. I think he's still mad because Berkeley took his ginger ales."

She laughed. "Yeah. Maxine told me about your little match-up in the break room."

He leaned toward her. "Hey, when you get up there, try to get that can away from Stetler, will you? We don't know if that's the one Maxine shook up. We tried to warn him, but you know how that goes."

Emmie raised her eyebrows. "Unfortunately I do. At this rate, neither one of you is gonna live long enough to date Calleigh. I'll see what I can do."

With Delko's gray cable in hand, Emmie stood warily outside the doorway when she heard _FSSSSSSSSHT!_ and a torrent of profanity. She quickly stepped back.

"Come on in, Emmie!" she heard him shout. She crept in warily.

Rick stood furiously gripping his spouting soda can, staring daggers at her and then at the baptized computer parts. Ginger ale had sprayed everything in its path, from the ceiling to the computer to its owner. The rest of it spouted out of the can like a fountain. More ginger ale now dripped out of his black hair and his face. His yellow paisley tie now clung to his soaked blue shirt.

Not knowing what else to do, Emmie reached into her tool case and handed him a wad of paper towels. Without a word he put down the wet soda can and snatched them from her. While he wiped his face, she reached behind him for the keyboard and turned it on its side. More ginger ale trickled to the floor. She bit her lip and breathed deeply. This wouldn't be a good time to laugh.

"I'll be back in a little bit. Let's see. In addition to the new cable, looks like you'll need a, uh, new keyboard, new mouse, and probably a new monitor."

Rick now leveled his eyes at her as he wrung out his tie. "When you go downstairs, you tell Berkeley and Delko I want to see them in my office as soon as they get back" he snarled. "Do you understand?"

"Will do, Sir." With that she quickly set the wet computer parts on the cart and hurried out while a furious IAB agent blotted ginger ale out of his shirt and peeled wet documents off his desk.

Safely out of Rick's hearing, Emmie opened her cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Hey Eric. It's Emmie. Sorry, but I got there just a hair too late. And yeah, when you and Jake are done talking with Stetler, maybe you better step outside and flip a coin. You'll probably live longer."


	16. The Guy Who Broke the Internet

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

**The Guy Who Broke the Internet**

As she waited for the computer system to switch over to day shift, cybertechnician Emmie Stockburne thumbed through papers in her inbox. "Here's your stuff for the morning, Dave. Filing, filing, junk mail." Her eyes widened as she looked at one report.

"What? Oh, come on! You gotta be kidding me!" She slapped the papers on her desk in a fit of anger.

"What's going on?" Dave Benton wanted to know as he looked up from the screen.

"It's a freaking IAB report. Seems you-know-who investigated the spike in our budget again. Rick forgets how much of that comes from fixing _his_ disasters!"

The ponytailed tech snorted. But then he craned his neck toward the door. "Speaking of which…."

IAB agent Rick Stetler ambled into the lab, looking at her sternly. "Miss Stockburne. You get a copy of my report?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I did, Sir. But you left a lot of things out."

He raised his eyebrows at her defiantly. "Really? Tell me what I missed."

"Well, where to begin. There's the brand new keyboard you totaled when Madison left her toy spiders in your office."

"They looked like real spiders" he protested.

And then there's the console you trashed when the cable got wrapped around your leg and you tripped."

Rick remained unfazed. "Those are all safety issues that _you_ should've taken care of!"

"With all due respect, Sir, you and 'safety issues' don't belong in the same sentence!"

The IAB agent headed toward the door. "Anyway, that report is going before the review board. You know how to appeal."

Fuming, Emmie resumed working on the case the Delko had given her that morning. "No problem, it's only my funding and my annual review" she snarled.

The phone chirped. "Mind picking it up, Dave? I'll handle Sergeant Stetler only if it's an emergency!"

After listening for several minutes, Dave put his hand over the mouthpiece. "It's an emergency, Emmie" he insisted.

"What now?" she snapped.

"Stetler's pretty upset." he said with a smile. "He says he thinks he broke the Internet."

She stood with her mouth open. This was a new one. "Great. I'll go check it out. Hey Dave, Peter Elliot's supposed to come by with two agents from cybercrimes to drop off some stuff. Tell him where I'll be."

* * *

Emmie looked over Rick's computer as he stood impatiently behind her, hands on hips. "Well? Can you fix it?"

After a moment, Emmie backed away and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God! Did you do that, Sir?" she whispered in horror, pointing to the dead console.

The IAB agent furrowed his eyebrows. "Do what?"

"You _broke the Internet_?"

This sounded serious. "What are you talking about?"

She sat down in front of the console and put her hand over her face. "Uh, I don't know if you realize what you just did."

"Huh?"

"I don't think you understand. The Internet's broken. That means we can't get lab info. The guys in the field can't do background checks when they do traffic stops. Nobody can do their timesheets." She managed to fake tears. "That means _none of us gets paid_!"

Rick could feel himself sweat now. "I wiped all that out?"

Emmie bit her lip. "Credit reports, flight info. And what about all the nuclear secrets in Washington?"

He put up both his hands and backed up. "Hey! I didn't mean it! I was just looking up something and the thing went dead! I swear!"

"I'm gonna have to put this in my write-up. You're gonna be known all over the world as 'The Guy Who Broke the Internet.' Because of you, the whole world's gonna go back into the Stone Age."

Rick was completely panic-stricken now. "Emmie, you gotta help me! How's that gonna look on my promotion packet?" He restrained himself from grabbing her arm. "You gotta fix it, Emmie! Please?"

Emmiel looked at him with tearful eyes. "I don't know if I can. My budget will dry up the minute you submit that report." She now wiped a tear from her eye. "You broke the Internet, Sir, and there's nothing anybody can do about it!"

Immediately Rick raced over to his desk, yanked up the report and shoved it into the shredder. "There! It's gone! I'll tell them I lost it!" His voice trembled. "I'll even get more money for your department if you fix it!"

Emmie looked at him hopefully with wet eyes. "And a new main monitor?"

Rick closed his eyes and sat down in sheer desperation. "Anything you want! Please fix it? Whatever it takes. I don't want this on my head."

Wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, Emmie glanced around the blank monitor. "Okay. We might have one chance. I saw an FBI expert do this one time. Let's just see…." With trembling hands she fumbled with some cables. The Internet came back to life. She threw her arm up in the air triumphantly. "Yes!"

Rick breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Emmie." He looked at her almost pleadingly. "Not gonna tell anybody about this, are you? Just between us?"

"Our little secret, Sir. I promise."

"Let's go downstairs and I'll take care of your budget now" Rick promised, feeling the weight of the world fall off his shoulders.

* * *

Emmie stepped into the lab to be met by Secret Service Agent Peter Elliot and two suited gentlemen chatting with Dave. "Hey! Inspector Gadget! Nice of you to rub shoulders with us minions" she joked.

"Emmie. These guys are new to the the Miami satellite office. Just wanted to show them around, since you'll be working together. This is Emmie Stockburne, in charge of the computer lab. Emmie, these are Agents Connor and Bernhardt, both with Cybercrimes. I have a feeling you'll be working with them."

She shook hands with the agent's new co-workers. "Nice to meet you, gentlemen. I just got done fixing the IAB computer. Ends up Sergeant Stetler broke the Internet."

Agent Elliot chuckled. "Yeah. That's what Dave was telling me."

Agent Connor grinned. "Broke the Internet, huh? How the hell do you do that?"

Out of her peripheral vision Emmie noticed Rick Stetler ambling down the hallway. She pointed to him. "Yeah, right there. That's Sergeant Stetler."

Rick stopped in the hallway as the two agents donned their sunglasses and bared their badges while glaring at him.

"That's him!" Agent Bernhardt nearly shouted. "Sergeant Stetler! FBI! We want to talk to you!"

Rick's face went pale as he froze in his tracks. Feds or no Feds, he spun on his heels and darted into the men's room.

Emmie and Dave settled back in their chairs laughing. Emmie wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "Oh my God! Peter, that was cruel! Funny as hell, though."

Minutes later the gruff-looking Fed walked back in with an ear-to-ear grin.

"What happened?" Emmie wanted to know.

"Well, I don't know what he got so scared about. He was hiding in the stall when I said I got a call from the Pentagon that some guy in the Miami-Dade Crime Lab broke the Internet. He's still in the men's room. You might want to go check on him in a few minutes. I hope the guy keeps an extra pair of slacks."

"Dave, I'll let you handle that" Emmie said between fits of laughter.

"Me? Thanks. Why do I always have to clean up the FBI's messes?"

Peter turned toward the door. "Well hey, we better get going. I left the stuff on your desk. See you later, Emmie."

"Thanks! See you guys! Thanks for the laugh!"

Agent Connor smiled back and waved. "Works every time."


	17. Out With A Bang

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Yes, one of our computer techs DID prank a supervisor with this. **

* * *

**Out With A Bang**

Horatio stepped into the Miami-Dade Computer Lab. Computer Tech Emmie Stockburne was testing the AV equipment for one of Frank Tripp's cases. At hearing her boss's footsteps, she turned around, still holding her headphone to one ear. "Ah. Morning, Sir."

Horatio fingered his sunglasses. "Miss Stockburne. I need a favor that would require your particular expertise."

"Sure. I'll do what I can."

"You know about Julia Winston."

Emmie shrugged. "I've heard of her."

" She's also dating Rick Stetler. Last time Kyle visited me, he said the two of them were talking about marriage. Now you probably know that she's very well off."

"I've heard rumors. So you're saying he doesn't love her for her wit and charm?"

"Truth is, I'm actually more concerned about Kyle. But here's what I need from you. Kyle also tells me that Rick is all excited about his computer training. Now he insists he can use computer software to handle all their finances. They'll be here this morning. Of course, Rick is going to expect you to give him unlimited free tech support when he downloads his new banking software."

Emmie smirked. "Doesn't he always?"

Horatio hushed his voice. "See what you can do to help him, if you know what I mean."

"By helping, you mean—"

"Exactly. I'd rather not see Kyle go through what Ray Jr. did."

Emmie laughed wickedly as she clicked the keyboard to tap into IAB's controls. "Got just the thing, Sir. We pranked a Secret Service agent who swore he knew computers inside and out." She tapped the keyboard furiously now. "I'm fixing his computer so the screensaver engages in two seconds if he doesn't keep using it. I'll tell him what to do, and then we can just sit back and watch the fireworks."

The Lieutenant smiled. "Thank you, Emmie. I owe you one."

An hour later, out of the corner of her eye, Emmie recognized IAB agent Rick Stetler proudly escorting Julia Winston into the lab.

"Emmie? Have you met Julia?" he said proudly.

In a ladylike manner she stood up and extended her hand in a ladylike manner. "I don't believe so. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise" she said as she shook hands with a graceful smile. "Horatio told me about you."

Rick fingered his tie proudly. "Or, should I say, the future Julia Stetler?"

"Thank God for that, uh, I mean, congratulations to you."

Rick smiled down to her. "Now honey, I want you to wait here with Emmie while I download that new banking software up in my office. I'll call down here, and Emmie is gonna walk me through it. It's very technical, and I don't want to bore you. Just talk about woman stuff with Emmie for a while. Excuse me, Ladies."

He had just turned to leave as Emmie bolted up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

"Oh, wait, Sir. I forgot to mention something" she whispered, her eyes darting around. "I, uh, installed a new motherboard in your console because the old one fried out."

Rick tried to act like he knew about this, but he fingered his tie nervously. "Right."

"This is a new one, high-tech and all, but, well, it's had a few problems. But don't worry; it's really simple. Every time your screen goes black, just bang your desk with your fist three times to restart your system, and it'll come right back on. Got it?"

Rick raised one eyebrow at her. "Got it. Thanks. Why are we whispering?"

"Well, Julia trusts you, right? You don't want her to think you don't know what you're doing."

The IAB agent sniffed. "Of course not. I'll call you, Emmie." With that he left.

With Rick out of earshot, Julia leaned in toward her. "Emmie, I'm trusting Rick with our finances. He keeps telling me how great he is with computers. Is that true?"

Emmie raised her eyebrows with a smile. "You're about to find out."

The stunning blonde ducked her head back warily and looked at the ceiling. "Thank you."

Emmie picked up the phone when it chirped. "Computer lab, Emmie- Oh, hey, Sir. Hold on. Putting you on speaker now." She punched some buttons and hung up the handset. "Hear me clearly, Sir?"

"_Loud and clear. Watch an expert, Sweetheart. I'm gonna take good care of you and Kyle."_

"Okay, Sir. Your screen is black right now. Remember what I said you had to do."

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_

A startled Julia jumped back in her chair. "Rick, what are you doing?"

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "It's okay, Julia. Special technique. Brand new high-tech hardware. Trust me." BAM! BAM! BAM! "Okay, Miss Stockburne. Got the CD's ready." BAM! BAM! BAM!_

Emmie shrugged and smiled. "You're our new expert, Sir."

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "Loading the software just for you!" BAM! BAM! BAM! _

Julia pointed at the speaker. "Emmie, does he always do things like this?" she whispered.

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "Got the first CD downloaded, honey! Almost finished!" BAM! BAM! BAM! _

Emmie was sure to hit the mute button before she shrugged and smiled. "Why do you think I asked him to download it on _his_ computer?"

"_Still solving problems with your fists, Rick?" _she heard Horatio say over the speaker._ "What are you doing?"_

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "Emmie put in some new high-tech hardware, Horatio. Now if you'll excuse me, I have important business to deal with." BAM! BAM! BAM! "Julia and Kyle need my help. I'm gonna be the husband and father they deserve." BAM! BAM! BAM! _

Julia angrily from the chair and glared at the ceiling. "Excuse me, Emmie!" With that she stormed out of the lab and hurried toward the elevator.

The computer tech leaned her face on her hand, her eyes transfixed on the speaker phone.

"_You're embarrassing me in front of everybody, Rick! You don't really know what you're doing, do you?" _

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "Sure I do. What are you talking about?" BAM! BAM! BAM! _

She stood up. "_You're not touching that money! You hear me?"_

_BAM! BAM! BAM! "Aw, wait a minute, honey! See? It's working!" BAM! BAM! BAM!_

"_When you pound the table, you're bumping the mouse so the screensaver goes away! Idiot!"_

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_ _"Aw, come on. Just a few more minutes. Please, honeybuns?" __BAM! BAM! BAM!_

"_And I'm hiring an accountant!"_

Emmie had covered her face with a Kleenex to suppress her laughter. She turned around in time to see Horatio standing about three feet behind her, hands on hips, smiling.

"Ah, the sounds of love. What do you say, Sir?"

"Thank you, Emmie."

She pointed to the noisy speaker phone. "Think you've heard enough drama for the day?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Go ahead and hang up."

"_You lied to me, Rick! You don't know that computer from your—"_

Emmie lunged forward and slapped the button. The speaker phone went blissfully silent.

"I think I better take you out to lunch somewhere before Sergeant Stetler figures it out. That one deserves something."

"Well, since you made the offer, Sir, I'm thinking that frozen yogurt place across the street sounds good."

"Sounds good. I'll talk with Julia later." He then looked up and donned his sunglasses. "This time, Rick Stetler didn't win for love or money."


	18. The Devil is in the Details

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Sorry this update took so long. I found myself having to update and rework some of these stories. And special thanks to CSI Babs for suggesting another one. That will come later. Also, thanks for all the reviews. **

* * *

**The Devil is in the Details**

"We're looking for all forty-four calibers sold legitimately within the last six months in the Miami area" Calleigh said, leaning over Emmie's shoulder as she quickly typed in her clearance code and pulled up the necessary database. Then we need to find who the registered owners are."

Computer tech Emmie Stockburne was helping Calleigh untangle Miami's latest murder when she noticed an acrid but familiar smell wafting through the computer lab's ventilation system. She put her finger to her nose and turned to Calleigh. "You smell that?"

Calleigh straightened up and sampled the air. "Yeah. Now that you mention it…."

After another whiff, Emmie tensed up. "Wait. Oh God. I know that smell."

Her worst fears were confirmed. Within one second the fire alarm blared, piercing the air. Calleigh quickly walked out the door. "We'll talk later. I hope it's just a drill!"

Emmie bolted up from her chair. "Tyler, get the switch!" she shouted over the noise. Tyler stood up and dutifully shut off the main power switch before bolting out. Emmie grabbed her laptop before shutting the doors to the computer lab and joining the sea of labcoat-clad techs and CSI's streaming out of the fire exits.

* * *

Outside, Emmie sat down under a tree and looked around. It was normal to hear a fire truck screaming toward the lab during a fire drill, but this time she noticed several other engines pulling up to the front.

"Emmie, did you say you knew that smell?" Calleigh asked her. "What's happening?"

"That's the smell a computer monitor makes when it blows up" she moaned. "I've had to handle a few of those."

The fire marshall and a horde of firefighters hurried into the front entrance. But when she saw the ambulance, Emmie walked around from a distance to get a closer look.

The doors were open on the back of the ambulance. In the back she saw a very wet, disoriented and quaking Rick Stetler sitting with an oxygen mask on his face and two medics attending to him. It looked like one medic was wrapping his left hand. It piqued her curiosity.

Eric was finishing up a conversation with Horatio. She walked toward him.

"Hi Eric. Any idea what's going on?" Emmie asked, pointing to the ambulance.

Delko grinned. "H told me something about Stetler screaming and punching his computer monitor and—"

She put up her hand. "Stop right there. I don't want to hear it!"

"Hey! You said you wanted to know."

"Not anymore I don't."

* * *

Once the fire marshal had given the all clear, Emmie followed the sea of lab coats back into the building and reopened the computer lab. The smell of a dead computer monitor now hung thickly in the air.

Horatio walked in. "Miss Stockburne. Sorry to interrupt your day."

"Eric started to tell me what happened, Sir. Is it as bad as I thought?"

"Rick was treated and released. He had smoke inhalation and a cut-up hand. IAB sent him home for the day. We heard him scream and punched his computer monitor. He was yelling something about the devil in his computer."

"Okay. That's a new one. Should I go up and take a look?"

"Later. The fire marshal is still clearing Rick's office. Unfortunately he managed to set the sprinklers off in his office. I'm about ready to see that he get sent for a psych eval."

"Way overdue, if you ask me, Sir."

* * *

The next day IAB sergeant Rick Stetler stood behind Emmie as she tapped into Rick's network. "Okay, Sir, what exactly did you see?"

Rick's eyes grew wide as he spread his arms out. His left hand still sported bandages from his accident. "I had the devil on my computer screen. You don't believe me? Look for yourself!"

"I'm tapping into your network now, Sir." I'll put it on the overhead screen so you can tell me if that's what you saw."

He glared at her. "Go ahead, Emmie! Make fun of me too!"

"I'm not making fun of anybody." With her computer keys clicking, she went into Rick's email. She stiffened up in surprise when a huge red and brown snarling beast with flaming nostrils, bloodshot eyes, and pointed teeth exploded on the overhead monitor and grumbled at her in a language she couldn't understand.

Rick's eyes widened as he backed away, nearly tripping backward over Tyler's chair. "You see that? Get rid of it! My computer's haunted!"

Even with the flaming and snarling above her head, Emmie sighed and closed her eyes. "Is this what caused you to have a stroke, Sir?" she wanted to know, pointing at the snarling red face.

Rick righted himself, never taking his eyes off the overhead monitor. "Yeah! Get it out of here! Call an exorsist!"

"Sir? Watch. Here's how you fix this problem." She held up her right hand. "See? Take right hand. Place hand on mouse. Move mouse." She executed those movements and slid her computer mouse side to side as she spoke. The growling, snarling speakers went silent, and her overhead monitor quickly reverted to the blue screen that Rick would have seen had he not destroyed his monitor.

Rick stared at the monitor dumbfounded. "What did you do?"

"That's a screensaver. THAT'S what caused you to trash your computer and your office. And by the way, where did you get it? Lieutenant Caine doesn't even let me or Tyler have this stuff on our computers. And please don't tell me it's because you're a sergeant."

Rick stood straight, trying to regain his high-and-mighty attitude. "You realize that I'm busy, Emmie. I don't have time to play those computer games! Maybe you should do your job better and keep that stuff out!" he snarled, not too happy that she would accuse him.

"Never mind, Sir. I'll answer my own question. Without a word she quickly dug through Rick's emails. One had a message that said I LOVE YOU! She noticed right away that it had an executable attachment, a sure sign that it could have been a virus.

Emmie folded her arms and looked at Rick. "In doing my job better, I know I warned you about opening emails when you don't know where they come from? I can only update the firewall once a week, and if that had been a virus, you can't imagine what a disaster that would've been."

Rick huffed and fingered his tie. "Well, I don't get many emails like that. How the hell was I supposed to know? Now when can you fix my monitor?"

"Probably when they fix your office, Sir."

"That's gonna take weeks! I'm gonna have to do everything in my other office!"

"Exactly. And thank God, because I need a break. Now if there's nothing else, I'll clean that thing off your control panel."

Rick stormed out of the computer lab while Emmie busied herself clearing the file out of Rick's inbox.

* * *

At the end of the day she tiredly stepped outside and breathed in the warm evening air, relieved to be heading home. On her way to her car she almost bumped into Horatio. "Ooh, sorry, Sir."

The redheaded lieutenant had been surveying the front of the headquarters, but then he turned around. "Miss Stockburne. How did it go with Sergeant Stetler's computer system?"

She smiled tiredly. "Don't worry; I got the devil out of the computer network."

"That's good." Horatio turned around and donned his sunglasses. "Now if you could only do the same for IAB."


	19. Laptop Security IAB Style

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated this. I've been working on more, and so far I've only been able to come up with one or two. They will be published later. I also want to thank everyone for their reviews. **

* * *

**Laptop Security, IAB Style**

Emmie Stockburne, the Miami-Dade Crime Lab's cybertechnician, stood in the front of the stark white conference room amid a pile of instruction booklets, cables, and extra docking stations. She and Tyler had just finished one of the most intense projects the crime lab had seen in years. Management was finally on its way to being portable and wireless.

Horatio, Calleigh, Eric Delko, Ryan Wolfe, Natalia Boa Vista, Detective Tripp, and Rick Stetler, as well as several other members of management watched her. She briefed them on the basics of the docking stations, plugging in the laptops, booting up, accessing the basic programs such as AFIS, CODIS, and any other information for which they might have clearances. She was finally glad to get to this point. Between Tyler and herself running cables, waiting for parts, work orders, typing and printing instructions, making sure every laptop had the necessary hardware and software, all in addition to her job at the crime lab, the computer lab had put in plenty of overtime. She was now winding down the briefing.

"I just have one last point to make. I know that most of us are law enforcement, and yes, most of us are honest. But that doesn't mean these laptops can't possibly grow legs. Ladies and gentlemen, each one of these laptops I've put together for you is worth about four thousand dollars apiece. That includes the hardware, software, docking station, cables, and all that lovely overtime Tyler and I put in getting it all up to speed. Take every possible precaution to keep your laptop from being stolen. This was made possible by a state grant, and they are not replaceable. Before I wind this up, does anybody have any questions?"

IAB sergeant Rick Stetler put up one finger.

Emmie craned her neck. "Yes, Sir. Rick."

"And if these laptops do disappear, whose investigation is it gonna be?" he demanded to know.

"I haven't been given that information yet, and I hope not to find out." Emmie looked quickly around the briefing room. "Anybody else?"

Silence.

"Remember, the Commissioner is going to want to video conference in from Tallahassee tomorrow at nine. If anybody has any problems, you know where to reach me. Once you get the hang of having all this information right at your fingertips, you'll wonder how you ever did without it. Trust me. And if nobody has any other questions, thanks for being here!"

As her co-workers filed out with their new gear in hand, Emmie breathed a sigh of relief and began to gather up materials from the briefing room.

* * *

The next morning Emmie came into the computer lab an hour early, as she knew there would inevitably be some bugs to be ironed out. Shouldn't be a big deal, she thought. Someone might have a problem with their password, or they might not be able to access the sound control. Over the years she learned to just be patient and walk her co-workers through any problems they might have. After all, these are CSI's, not fellow computer techs.

The phone chirped, indicating an incoming call. Tyler picked it up.

Emmie's heart sank when she heard the words…. "You're kidding me! Somebody did WHAT?"

"I don't like the sound of that, Tyler."

He handed her the phone, shaking his head. "You might want to take this one. It's Delko in Trace."

"This is Emmie." She listened to Eric Delko for a second. Her eyes and mouth widened. "WHAT?"

"You don't believe me? Come see for yourself!" Delko said adamantly.

"Not sure I want to. Be there in a few minutes." With that she hung up.

As she stepped into Trace, Calleigh and Eric stood back from the work table, obviously not believing what they saw. Delko pointed to the closed laptop on his desk in the lab. "See for yourself. It's right there."

Emmie peered at the laptop and then tried to open it. The top wouldn't budge. She tried to move it. Nothing. It was stuck to the desk and unable to open as though….

She looked under the desk.

_No way!_

There were four screw heads sticking out of the bottom of the table.

Her cell phone rang. She quickly popped it open. "Emmie Stockburne." It was Horatio. She just closed her eyes. "Well, Sir, looks like you're not the only one. I'll be up in a minute." She snapped her cell phone shut and just stared in disbelief.

"What's going on?" Calleigh wanted to know.

"Looks like somebody decided to heed my warning about stolen laptops, and we have a bunch of them bolted to their desks. Either that or a really sick prank."

Emmie trudged up to Horatio's office and examined the damage. Just like the laptops in the lab, Horatio's was bolted to the desk by four screws and bolted shut.

As she looked underneath Horatio's desk, both were startled by a stern knock on the door.

It was Rick, hands on hips, staring daggers at her. "Emmie, how are we supposed to use these things when they won't even open?" he demanded to know.

Then it occurred to her. "Uh Rick, did you…?"

He pointed out the door. "I did a lot of sucking up for that grant! Now you're saying they could be stolen, and how much money is that?"

"Okay, Rick. Now with these laptops bolted shut_, how In God's name are we supposed to move them? That's the purpose of a laptop! You know, portability_!"

"Take a screwdriver and unbolt them. That's what I did in my office."

Horatio just bowed his head.

Emmie folded her arms and looked skyward. "And did you happen to notice _four holes in your laptop? Meaning it doesn't work_?"

The cockiness ran away from Rick's face. "Oh. Well, how soon can you have those fixed?"

The lieutenant scowled at him. "Rick, if Miss Stockburne can fix your mistake, we really should give her a raise."

Emmie put her finger up. "Excuse me, Gentlemen." She headed downstairs and quickly opened up her email program, sending a priority message to the Commissioner's Office in Tallahassee.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

__

I would like to thank you very much for the state grant. I have assembled, run, loaded, and set up the laptops in anticipation of your video meeting.

Unfortunately, the Miami-Dade Crime Lab will be unable to participate due to an unforeseen circumstance. It seems last night our Internal Affairs Sergeant decided to enact some security measures without my knowledge, rendering all 22 laptops useless. For your information, Sergeant Stetler is the one who requested the state grant. I deeply regret this oversight.

Sincerely

_Emmalyn P Stockburne_  
_Senior Cybertechnician, Miami-Dade Crime Lab_

"What did you just tell the Commissioner?" Tyler wanted to know.

"Let's put it this way, Tyler. Thanks to a certain IAB sergeant, if you thought last year's state audit hurt, Alexx better stock up on some KY Jelly. This year it's gonna be _really_ ugly."


	20. Adventures in Babysitting

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I know it's been a while since I posted another Computer Calls chapter. I've had to update and retweak many of them, and I ended up leaving out a few of the originals. I'll be looking for some more ideas. If anyone else has any scenarios, please pm me, and if I can work it into another chapter, you'll definitely get the credit. Thanks for your patience. **

* * *

**Adventures in Babysitting**

As Cybertechnician Emmie Stockburne stepped into the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, she couldn't help but notice that Dave Benton was smiling expectantly from his work station. She leered at him suspiciously. "Morning, Dave. What's going on?"

He never took his eyes off the monitor. He wasn't a good liar, and both of them knew it.

Emmie stopped and stiffened up when she saw five rubber spiders on her work station. Someone had left brown and black rubber spiders on her keyboard. A fake tarantula stuck to her monitor screen. But the one that really got her attention was the shiny red spider that looked like it was moving. She smirked and picked it up, watching it wave its furry legs in the air.

"Okay, Dave. Who left their pets in here?" she wanted to know, leveling her eyes at him.

The ponytailed tech grinned. "That new guy in DNA. He did that to all the female CSI's and techs. I think Valera's still in the ladies' room. He even put some of those in Ballistics. I don't think he's ever gonna do that to Calleigh again!"

Unimpressed, she then studied the little hatch on its underbelly. "Batteries, huh? Cute."

"Spiders don't bother you?" Dave asked, sounding a little disappointed.

"Scorpions? Camel spiders? Pine roaches? Snakes? These are nothing!" She stuffed them into the pocket of her blue lab coat as she settled into her work station. "I'm sure I could have fun with these, though. Guess I'll have to thank that new guy."

At that moment a very tired Horatio walked into the computer lab, Madison in tow. The little redhead craned her neck at all the new, colorful toys.

"Miss Stockburne" he sighed. "I need to ask you a favor, and I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need your help."

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?"

He nodded his head at the curious little girl. "You know my niece, Madison."

Emmie smiled and looked down. "I've heard about you. Hi, Sweetie!"

"Would it be too much trouble for you to watch her for about fifteen minutes while I go interrogate a suspect? Madison's mother has a doctor appointment, and I've been keeping an eye on her."

"Oh, sure, Sir. No problem at all. Come on in and sit down, Madison." Obediently the girl sat down in the extra chair. "Maybe she can help me do some searches."

"Thanks, Emmie. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You don't owe me a thing, Sir. These things happen."

The computer tech now sat next to Madison as she reached into her lab coat pocket. "Here, Sweetheart. You want some toy spiders?" She produced the brown rubber spider and waved it so its legs flailed.

The little girl's blue eyes lit up as she took the squirmer in her hand. "Thank you." Emmie let her fondle and wave the rubber spider while she turned around to finish Jake Berkeley's bank search.

Emmie then picked up a new black ergonomic keyboard and stuck her hand out to Madison. "Come on, Madison. Sergeant Stetler's getting a brand new keyboard. Want to come and help me put it in?"

"He doesn't like me" she pouted. "Can I bring the bugs?"

"Sure. Don't worry; that mean man won't be there. Just you and me." She scooped out the rubber spiders and handed them to Madison before peeling off her lab coat.

Emmie smiled to herself while Madison held spiders in each hand, making them dance as she sat cross-legged on the floor. It made her job easier that Rick wasn't there. After plugging, adjusting, and clicking, she finally stood back and brushed the dust off her hands. "Okay, Madison. Looks like we're done. Now we can leave the mean sergeant's office."

As she walked down the hall, Emmie noticed that Madison wasn't behind her. She began to backtrack warily in time to see the little redhead smile as she came down the hall. "There you are. Come on. Let's see if Uncle Horatio's back."

As Emmie donned her lab coat and settled back into her chair, Horatio stepped into the lab. Madison ran to her uncle and hugged him. "Thanks for watching her, Emmie."

Emmie smiled. "Oh, hey Sir. No problem." She looked down at the little girl now. "In fact she even helped me fix Sergeant Stetler's keyboard, didn't you?" She then stuck her hand into her lab coat pocket. "In fact, I let her play with those rubber spiders the new DNA tech left on my keyboard. Uh, wait." She glanced urgently now. "Sweetheart? What did you do with the buggies?"

"I wanted Sergeant Stetler to like me, so I gave them to him as a present."

Horatio raised his eyebrows cautiously. "Well, thanks for your help, Emmie. Hopefully you'll find those spiders before Rick does. See you later." With that he took his niece's hand and led her out.

At that precise moment the phone chirped. Without looking she hit the ANSWER button. "Computer lab, Emmie Stock— Sir? Calm down. You did what? That was a brand new keyboard. I believe you. No, I didn't put any—Oh, God. I'll be right up, Sir." She clicked off the ANSWER button.

All Dave could do was smile. "Let me guess. Sounds like Stetler found the buggies."

"Want my job for a day, Tyler?"

* * *

The computer tech stood at the door of the IAB office and stared.

"Well, come in, Emmie! I need you to fix my keyboard!"

An angry Rick Stetler leaned, panting as though he had just finished a marathon. Hanging off the desk by its cord was a now-mangled keyboard. Keys and parts she couldn't identify now littered his desk like confetti. The office itself looked like an explosion in a paper factory.

"Not sure I want to know what happened, Sir."

"Emmie, this keyboard doesn't work" he snarled. "I need a new one."

"I just took that thing out of the box this morning" she protested.

He stepped forward and thrust the black mess at her. "Well, this one's defective! Bring me another one!"

"Keeping the city safe from bugs, Rick?"

Both Emmie and Rick looked up in surprise. Horatio stepped in the doorway, Madison in tow, and surveyed the damage. "I just brought Madison back to get those toy spiders she left in here. Maybe it's a good thing you weren't armed, Rick."

The tired, disheveled IAB agent smirked at him. "I guess you thought that was funny!"

"I gave them to you for a present" Madison said to the floor, nearly in tears. "I want you to like me."

The Lieutenant glanced down at Madison's little trophies. "Madison, Sergeant Stetler likes you. He's just mean. Why don't you let him keep just one bug?" The lieutenant leveled his eyes at Rick. "And I know he'll say thank you."

Madison picked a brown spider and placed it gingerly in his hand. Rick rolled his eyes as he gently took her gift. "Yeah, all right. Thank you, Madison" he said deliberately, knowing full well Horatio wouldn't tolerate any less.

Emmie had been gathering pieces off the floor and the desk. She then glanced at the carnage in her hand. "Don' worry, Sir. I'll be back with a new, less defective keyboard."

Horatio led his little niece out as he and Emmie stepped out of the IAB paper explosion.

"Sorry about all this, Miss Stockburne" Horatio said tiredly.

She chuckled. "Oh, hey, no problem. Didn't know Madison would leave spiders on Rick's computer."

They stood at the elevator now. "She just wanted to leave Rick a little present" Horatio said as he donned his sunglasses. "But where Rick's involved, we'll never work the bugs out."


	21. Blowout

**This will be the last Computer Calls one-shot. I don't seem to be able to come up with any new ideas. I wanted to thank all of your kind reviews. It's been a real pleasure to write these. You will notice that, throughout this story, there are little tidbits from the other one-shots.  
Having had some relatives in law enforcement, I can tell you that I've only HEARD of the bomb cake. Never seen it done.**

**This is how I wished Rick Stetler WOULD HAVE LEFT, not that lame ending in Time Bomb. I chose Alabama because actor David Lee Smith is from Birmingham. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Blowout**

Cybertechnician Emmie Wolfe stared silently at the mass of computer parts. Dave Benton tapped away feverishly behind her. "Anybody know what time that thing is?" he asked at the display screen.

"In about an hour" Emmie said to the work table. "What's the status on Frank's case?"

His ponytail swayed as he shook his head. "Gonna be close. Going as fast as I can. Emmie, why can't Stetler take a rain check? Jake handed me a four-hour job."

"Nope. Lieutenant Caine wants every department there. No exceptions."

"So Stetler's moving back to Alabama. Aren't we supposed to celebrate _after_ he's gone?"

Emmie sniffed as, with gloved fingers, she lined up circuits and wires. "Politics. The head of IAB is leaving after twenty years."

Dave nodded from behind his monitor. "What's all that?"

Emmie turned around from the lighted work table. "Lieutenant Caine told me that when a higher-up leaves, it's the custom for each department to give a gift that represents what they do. So I figured for the computer lab, it would be perfect to build Lieutenant Stetler a working computer from all the ones he's trashed."

Dave grinned at the screen. "You should have enough there to build ten computers."

"I know, since I couldn't do much else with these parts. I rebuilt this keyboard after he ran it through the dishwasher. He knocked this mouse on the floor and stomped on it when one of his contacts fell out, and he thought it was a giant rat crawling on his desk. I pieced this disk drive together after he shoved five CD's in the old one."

"Before you explained to him that he was supposed to take out the old ones?"

"That's the one." She then draped some wires over her hand like spaghetti. "And these wires were all that was left when he thought the CD drive was a cupholder and his coffee cup exploded. He should have his working computer just in time."

Emmie was just about to fasten the console together.

"Emmie?"

The computer tech smiled as she recognized Ryan's voice. Walter stood with him out in the blue hallway.

"We better get going. Stetler's farewell party just started."

"Almost done. Got one more thing." She looked around the table and then on the floor. "Hey! Anybody seen a conduit wire? I have to hook it up to the power source."

Walter hesitated. "That one that was on the desk?"

Emmie furrowed her eyebrows at him. "Yeah. What happened to it?"

"Uh, when you were at lunch, some guys from the bomb squad came around asking for some wire. It didn't have any tags on it, so I let 'em take it."

"You did _what_?"

The tall CSI shrugged. "Yeah. They said something about making a cake. I thought they were kidding."

Dave and Tyler looked at each other. Emmie put her hand on her forehead. "Uh, Walter, did I hear you right? The bomb squad made him a cake, and they asked for that conduit wire?"

"Yeah! Why?"

Just then her phone chirped. She picked it up. "Computer lab, Emmie. Uh, hey Sir." Dave just smiled while Ryan and Walter craned their necks. "Yes Sir. How bad is it? I think I can explain. We can bring some wet towels with us. Yes Sir." With that she hung up.

"What happened?" Walter wanted to know.

She sighed deeply and glared at them. "Dave? We better get down there. Walter, since you gave those nutjobs that wiring, you get to bring some wet towels."

* * *

Horatio looked a little annoyed as he met them in the blue hallway. With a white cloth he mopped blue and white frosting off his black jacket. "Mrs. Wolfe. Mr. Benton."

Emmie raised her eyebrows. "Sir, was that—"

"The bomb squad's gift to Stetler? Yes. I noticed the conduit wire in what's left of the cake."

The two computer techs simply stared at the window. What had once been the clean glass of an interrogation room was now spattered with chocolate, vanilla, and blue icing. Lab techs and officers were now wandering down the hallway, cleaning gobs of icing and cake off themselves. Some cursed. Some laughed.

"This can't be good" Ryan said, standing at a distance.

"Damn" Walter said, looking up and down. "Serious high-velocity spatter. Kinda looks like the suicide Tom posted this morning. What happened?"

Horatio now had to smile as he wiped his lapel. "Somebody strung the wire through that cake after they stripped the housing off. When Stetler cut into the wire with the metal knife, the baking soda in the cake caused a chemical reaction."

Walter pointed. "So Stetler—"

"—got the worst of it."

Ryan smiled. "Cleaning crew's not gonna be too happy about this."

"That's what I wanted to talk to everyone about."

"I'm out of here" Walter said between laughs. "Probably nothing left of that cake anyway."

"I'll bring him those wet towels, Sir" Emmie said.

Just then IAB agent Rick Stetler stumbled out into the blue hallway. Gobs of frosting and cake fell to the floor as he cursed and wiped his eyes. From his head to his knees, blue, white and brown spatter covered him. Blue icing stuck in his black hair. Frosting looked like warpaint where he had tried to wipe it off his face. His paisley tie and striped shirt were coated. He glared daggers at her.

"Figured you'd want these, Sir" Emmie said hesitantly, holding up wet towels.

With a huff, Rick snatched them away and cleaned his face and hands. "Horatio! You tell the bomb squad to meet me in my office! _Now_!"

Horatio smiled. "They just wanted to make sure you remembered them, Rick."

"By the way, Sir, we have your present from the computer lab. And it actually works." She looked at the frosting-spattered walls one more time. "Maybe it's a good thing I was late with it."

The IAB lieutenant slapped the wet towels back into her hand. Emmie wrinkled her nose and handed them to Dave. "What am I supposed to do with these?" he asked.

"Put them in an evidence bag. By the way, what did your cake say, Sir?"

Rick huffed as he took off his jacket and brushed it off. He could feel his anger slipping away. "It said 'Congratulations Lieutenant Stetler from the bomb squad.' I should've known they'd pull something like this."

"Well, call me when you get ready to go, Sir. I hope Homicide at least gave you a greeting card."

But then a crowd of officers and lab techs walked back up the hallway, wheeling another cake on a cart. Still covered with frosting, Rick stopped and stared.

"_Surprise!"_

Horatio dipped his head. "We didn't forget about you, Rick." He then handed him another cake knife. "Let's do this right here in the hallway."

Rick looked down at the new cake.

_Good Luck, Lt Stetler_

In spite of the icing still stuck in his hair and his clothes, he smiled. "Thanks everybody." As labcoat-clad techs and officers gathered back around, him, his eyes darted. He then handed the cake knife to Horatio. "But this time, _you_ cut it! I'm standing back here."

"What about the interrogation room?" Walter asked.

Horatio lowered his head. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Don't worry. I just paged the bomb squad. They're on their way with cleaning supplies."

Horatio stood and watched as the CSI's and bomb squad officers sprayed the windows and wiped down the table.

"Okay Sir, how was it?" Emmie finally whispered.

Horatio held up his camera phone. "Need you to download these later."

"I'll take care of it" she said with a smile in her voice.

"Of all the celebrating we've done for Lieutenant Stetler" Horatio donned his sunglasses as he stood at the doorway. "I can say that the bomb squad really takes the cake!"


End file.
